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2021 in Movies - My Top 30 Fave Movies (Part 3)

10. NO TIME TO DIE – another BIG movie that got knocked about A LOT looking for a release date due to COVID over the past two years was this long-awaited (SERIOUSLY) latest entry in the “reboot” universe James Bond, 007 spy film franchise, which got rescheduled so much we were beginning to fear we might NEVER get to see it. This was especially frustrating since it was intended to be Daniel Craig’s FINAL tour of duty as Bond, James Bond, the greatest spy to ever kiss-kiss-bang-bang, making it the biggest event in the franchise since it was first retconned for a new generation with the masterful Casino Royale. Since then the series has had highs and lows, but by and large it’s been REALLY STRONG, I’ll admit that, despite being a big fan of the old school Bonds I’ve really come to prefer this new version, and it is dominated by what many (myself included) consider to be the greatest Bond picture of all time, the incomparable Skyfall. So how does this one stack up? Well right away I must admit it DOESN’T reach the dizzying heights of awesomeness that Skyfall managed, but it’s very close to Casino Royale quality, and it’s definitely a strong improvement on the comparatively meh SPECTRE … most importantly, though, it certainly is a worthy and simply SPECTACULAR send-off for one of the best Bond actors of them all, to such an extent that it genuinely feels like the end of an era. It’s certainly as lush, lavish and well-appointed as we’ve come to expect from one of the most opulent big screen properties out there, and once again the Broccolis have drawn in all the best talent to execute it, particularly in the director’s chair, enlisting the heavyweight talent of True Detective, Sin Nombre and Beast of No Nation writer-director Cary Joji Fukunaga, who here also delivers a corker of a screenplay alongside franchise regulars Neil Purvis and Robert Wade, with extra spice added by Fleabag and Killing Eve creator Phoebe Waller Bridge, and the result is a globe-hopping, labyrinthine thrill-ride that’s every bit as exciting, intriguing, amusing and emotional as any of its predecessors. It’s also definitely the LONGEST, clocking in at an unprecedented (for the franchise) two-and-three-quarter hours, but then it’s got A LOT of story to cram into its running time, and the best part about this film is that everything’s done so well and is so thoroughly absorbing that you never feel it’s dragging its feet or that it’s too overlong. I won’t give away too much of the plot because it’s too much fun just letting the story unravel by itself, suffice to say that at the start there’s trouble in paradise after Bond drove off into the sunset with Madeleine (Lea Seydoux), as SPECTRE-based complications drive a wedge between them and forces Bond to go to ground, only for them to be reunited after five years when a new threat surfaces in the form of Safin (Mr Robot and Bohemian Rhapsody’s Rami Malek), a devious global terrorist from Madeleine’s past who’s gotten his hands on something capable of threatening the entire world. The problem is, now Bond’s on his own and MI6 have got a new 007, Nomi (Captain Marvel’s Lashana Lynch), who’s on the case herself and isn’t about to let an out-of-touch has-been get in her way. Craig’s magnificent as ever in what’s now officially become the greatest role he’s ever played, thoroughly badass but still maintaining that underlying element of vulnerability and self-deprecating humanity that’s always made this incarnation of Bond so effortlessly compelling, while Lynch shows a hell of a lot of promise for the future if the franchise does decided to go in the intriguing direction of following a new 007 in the future like the rumours say, investing Nomi with a cool confidence that hides hidden depths and complexities that I for one would very much look forward to exploring in the future; Seydoux, meanwhile, once again brings brittle beauty and grace to her role, but there’s steel beneath the surface, and it’s great fun seeing so many returning faces from the previous films, from Ralph Fiennes’ M, Naomie Harris’ Moneypenny and, of course, Ben Wishaw’s deserved fan-favourite Q to the welcome return of a far-too-long-absent Jeffrey Wright as Bond’s friend and CIA opposite-number Felix Leiter. Meanwhile there are two particularly notable turns from franchise newcomers, with Malek delivering one of the most intriguing, chilling and evocative villains the franchise has fielded in some time (even going so far as overshadowing Christoph Waltz’ returning mastermind Blofeld), while Blade Runner 2049’s Ana de Armas is clearly having a ball getting to kick arse and take names while reuniting with her Knives Outco-star as precocious rookie CIA field operative Paloma (another character I’d love to see again, especially if we could see her teaming up with Nomi). This is the Bond films doing what they do best, delivering maximum escapism while whipping several big budget, breakneck set-pieces past us with very little CGI in the mix at all (the unshakeable commitment to doing ALL the action physically has always been one of the things I most respect about these movies), but there’s a particularly strong emotional undertone this time round that makes it an especially powerful watch, which is perfectly suited to the gravity of this event picture, especially in the charged climax. Like it says in the song, “nobody does it better,” and when it comes to Bond that’s damned right.

9. GUNPOWDER MILKSHAKE – Netflix’ best offering of the summer was this surprise hit from Israeli writer-director Navot Papushado (Rabies, Big Bad Wolves), a heavily stylised black comedy action thriller that passes the Bechdel Test with FLYING COLOURS. Playing like a female-centric John Wick, it follows ice-cold, on-top-of-her-game assassin Sam (Karen Gillan) as her latest assignment has some unfortunate blowback, leading her to take on a reparation job retrieving missing cash for the local branch of the Irish Mob. The only catch is that a group of thugs have kidnapped the thief’s little girl, 12 year-old Emily (My Spy’s Chloe Coleman), and Sam, in an uncharacteristic moment of sympathy, decides to intervene, only for the money to be accidentally destroyed in the process. Now she’s got the Mob and her own employers coming after her, and she not only has to save her own skin but also Emily’s, leading her to seek help from the one person she thought she might never see again – her mother, Scarlet (Lena Headey), a master assassin in her own right who’s been hiding from the Mob herself for years. The plot may be simple but at times also a little over-the-top, but the film is never anything less than a pure, unadulterated pleasure, populated with fascinating, living and breathing characters of real complexity and nuance, while the script (co-written by relative newcomer Ehud Lavski) is tightly reined-in and bursting with zingers. Most importantly, though, Papushado really delivers on the action front – these are some of the best set-pieces I saw in 2021, Gillan, her co-stars and the various stunt-performers acquitting themselves admirably in a series of spectacular fights, gun battles and a particularly imaginative car chase that would be the envy of many larger, more expensive productions. Gillan and Coleman have a sweet, awkward chemistry, the MCU star particularly impressing in a subtly nuanced performance that also plays beautifully against Headey’s own tightly controlled turn, while there is awesome support from Angela Bassett, Michelle Yeoh and Carla Gugino as Sam’s adoptive aunts Anna May, Florence and Madeleine, a trio of “librarians” who run a fine side-line in illicit weaponry and are capable of unleashing some spectacular violence of their own; the film’s antagonists, on the other hand, are exclusively masculine – the mighty Ralph Inneson is quietly ruthless as Irish boss Jim McAlester, while The Terror’s Adam Nagaitis is considerably more mercurial as his mad dog nephew Virgil, and Paul Giamatti is the stately calm at the centre of the storm as Sam’s employer Nathan, the closest thing she has to a father. There’s so much to enjoy in this movie, not just the wonderful characters and amazing action but also the singularly engrossing and idiosyncratic style, deeply affecting themes of the bonds of family (both blood and found) and the healing power of forgiveness, and a rewarding through-line of strong women triumphing over the brutalities of toxic masculinity. I love this film, and I invite you to try it out, cuz I’m sure you will too.

8. JUDAS & THE BLACK MESSIAH – I’m a little fascinated by the Black Panther Party, I find them to be one of the most intriguing elements of Black History in America, but outside of documentaries I’ve never really seen a feature film that’s truly done the movement justice, at least until now. It became a major talking point of the Awards Season, and it’s easy to see why – director Shaka King is a protégé of Spike Lee, and together with up-and-coming co-screenwriter Wil Berson he’s captured the fire and fervour of the Party and their firebrand struggle for racial liberation through force of arms, as well as a compelling portrait of one of their most important figures, Fred Hampton, the Chairman of the Illinois Chapter of the BPP and a powerful political activist who could have become the next Martin Luther King or Malcolm X. Get Out’s Daniel Kaluuya is magnificent in the role, effortlessly holding your attention in every scene with his laconic ease and deceptively friendly manner, barely hinting at the zealous fire blazing beneath the surface, but the film’s true focus is the man who brought him down, William O’Neal, a fellow Panther and FBI informant placed in the Chapter to infiltrate the movement and find a way for the Federal Government to bring down what they believed to be one of the country’s greatest internal threats. Lakeith Stanfield (Sorry to Bother You, Knives Out) delivers a suitably complex performance as O’Neal, perfectly embodying a very clever but also very desperate man walking a constant tightrope to maintain his cover in some decidedly wary company, but there’s never any real sense that he’s playing the villain, largely garnering sympathy from the viewer as we’re shamelessly made to root for him, especially once he starts falling for the very ideals he’s trying to subvert – it’s a true star-making performance, and he even holds his own playing opposite Kaluuya himself. The rest of the cast are equally impressive, Dominique Fishback (Project Power, The Deuce) particularly holding our attention as Hampton’s fiancée and fellow Panther Akua Njeri, as does Jesse Plemmons as O’Neal’s idealistic but sympathetic FBI handler Roy Mitchell, while Martin Sheen is the film’s nominal villain in a chillingly potent turn as J. Edgar Hoover. This is an intense and thrilling film, powered by a tense atmosphere of pregnant urgency and righteous fury, but while there are a few grittily realistic set pieces, the majority of the fireworks on display are performance based, the cast giving their all and King crafting a potent and emotionally resonant, inescapably timely history lesson that informs without ever slipping into preachy exposition, leaving an unshakable impression long after the credits have rolled. This doesn’t just earn all the award-winning kudos it gained, it deserved A LOT MORE recognition that it got, and if this were a purely critical rundown list I’d have to put it in the top spot. As it is I’m monumentally enamoured of this film, and I can’t sing its praises enough …

7. RUN, HIDE, FIGHT – the biggest surprise hit for me this year was this wicked little indie suspense thriller from writer-director Kyle Rankin (Night of the Living Deb), which snuck in under the radar but has nonetheless garnered an impressive reputation fit for future cult success. Critics have been less kind, but the subject matter IS a pretty thorny issue, and handled the wrong way it could have been in very poor taste indeed. Thankfully Rankin has crafted a corker here, initially taking time to set the scene and welcome the players before throwing us headfirst into an unbelievably tense but also unsettlingly believable situation – a small town American high school becomes the setting for a fraught siege when a quartet of disturbed students take several of their classmates hostage at gunpoint, creating a social media storm in the process as they encourage the capture of the crisis on phone cameras. While the local police gather outside, the shooters discover another threat from within the school throwing spanners in the works – Zoe Hull (Alexa & Katie’s Isabel May), a seemingly nondescript girl who happens to be the daughter of former marine scout sniper Todd (Thomas Jane). She’s wound pretty tight after the harrowing death of her mother to cancer, fuelled by grief and conditioned by her father’s training, so she’s determined to get her friends and classmates out of this nightmare, no matter what. Okay, so the premise reads like Die Hardin a school, but this is a very different beast, played for gritty realism and shot with unshowy cinema-verité simplicity, Rankin cranking up the tension beautifully but refusing to play to his audience any more than strictly necessary, drip-feeding the thrills to maximum effect but delivering some harrowing action nonetheless. The cast are top-notch too, Jane delivering a typically subtle, nuanced turn while Treat Williams is likeably stoic as world-weary but dependable local Sherriff Tarsey, Rhada Mitchell intrigues as the matter-of-fact phantom of Zoe’s mum, Jennifer, concocted to help her through her mourning, Olly Sholotan is sweet and geeky as her best friend Lewis, and Eli Brown raises genuine goosebumps as an all-too-real teen psychopath in the role of terrorist ringleader Tristan Voy. The real beating heart and driving force of the film, though, is May, intense, barely restrained and all but vibrating with wounded fury, perfectly believable as the diminutive high school John McClane who defies expectations to become a genuine force to be reckoned with. Altogether this is a cracking little thriller, a precision-crafted little action gem that nonetheless raises some troubling questions and treats its subject matter with utmost care and respect, a film that’s destined for major cult classic status, and I can’t recommend it enough.

6. COPSHOP – thanks to COVID (wow, that really has become something of a mantra here this time, hasn’t it?), writer-director Joe Carnahan (Narc, Smokin’ Aces, The A-Team, The Grey, Stretch) delivered a double-threat in 2021 – first up was the under-the-radar, long-delayed release of his delirious time-loop sci-fi action comedy Boss Level¸ which JUST missed out on making my lists for the year but I would happily recommend it all the same. Thankfully when it came time for what is, if I’m entirely honest, probably THE BEST FILM HE’S EVER MADE (seriously, I don’t think he’s EVER done anything better than this, and you’re talking to someone who ADORES Smokin’ Acesand The Grey), the cinemas were finally open again and the studios were willing to take a chance again, so we got to see this how it was MEANT to be seen. I’m so glad, because this movie was QUITE the experience, and one I thoroughly appreciated getting to enjoy amongst a proper audience – from its intriguing slowburn start to its deliriously over-the-top bonkers ending, this is an absolute GEM of a thriller, but also, as befits your typical Carnahan film, one with a strong and very, VERY dark sense of humour shot right through it. It starts simply enough, with wounded conman Teddy Murretto (Carnahan regular Frank Grillo) punching out small-town Nevada rookie cop Valerie Young (Watchmen and The Good Lord Bird’s Alexis Louder) in order to get himself arrested and gain a little temporary shelter from the various killers who are tailing him, only for one of them to track him down and pull the same trick to get himself into one of the neighbouring holding cells, deservedly notorious professional hitman Bob Viddick (Gerard Butler). Things get more complicated when the precinct house is besieged by decidedly unhinged psychopath Anthony Lamb (Carnivale and Halt & Catch Fire’s Toby Huss) and corrupt local cop Huber (Queen of the South’s Ryan O’Nan), forcing Valerie to hole up in the lock-up with Teddy and Viddick, both of whom start working hard to convince her that the only way she’s gonna make it out of here alive tonight is if she cuts one of them loose. This is a darkly comic delight, taking its time so it can build a strong rapport with us while establishing its incredibly strong characters and establish the threat before finally unleashing some proper chaos, and then in the second half we reap the magnificent rewards as we get to indulge in some explosive anarchy with characters we’ve duly become most invested in. Grillo and Butler are both absolutely on fire throughout, both getting once-in-a-career level roles to really sink their teeth into, and it’s a privilege getting to watch these two heavyweights go toe-to-toe in scene after scene of perfectly-written brilliance, while Huss is a genuine (ahem) killer antagonist, investing Lamb with a streak of thoroughly unrestrained (but also occasionally surprisingly reasonable) lunacy that means he steals every scene he’s in, but the film TRULY belongs to Louder, an up-and-comer who is doubtless set to break into the big time SPECTACULARLY thanks to this – Valerie is a seemingly sweet youngster who progressively reveals that she’s actually a secret badass, and she holds her own magnificently when playing against all the incredible top-tier talent on offer, so that in the end Valerie’s easily one of my top female protagonists of 2021. This film is, without a doubt, an undeniable masterpiece, a work of rare genius and superb quality that, if I was brutally honest, is almost TOO GOOD for the lowbrow genre it occupies – seriously, I think the script alone is worthy of some genuine award considerations, and for once Carnahan could even be looking at some actual consideration for his direction too. Not that I’d bet on it – this really isn’t the kind of movie that the Academy and their ilk ever considers, which is a downright shame. Gods know it’d have my vote. Honestly, if this was a purely critical list of THE BEST movies of 2021, I would still have to place this very high indeed …

5. KATE – boy oh boy, Netflix has had QUITE THE YEAR, success after success even AFTER the cinemas reopened, and their very best “cinematic” offering of 2021 (only coming second in their overall output for me due to the sheer fucking AWESOMENESS of Arcane) has a really good chance of going down as one of the all-time great action movies of this new decade. It’s another magnificently simple concept turned into a brilliantly complex piece of work that only this genre can really pull off, The Huntsman: Winter’s Wardirector Cedric Nicolas-Troyan finally delivering on the promise that was only really hinted at in his (largely unwanted sequel) feature debut as he weaves a thrilling and thoroughly engrossing action thriller that quickly builds up to a frantic, breakneck pace and then rarely lets its foot off the accelerator for the remainder of its impressively tight running time. In the end it looks like Birds of Prey & the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn was simply practice for Mary Elizabeth Winstead, who exceeds all expectations here as the titular Tokyo-based hitwoman, who’s looking to retire from a business she’s grown disillusioned with, only to find herself poisoned with Polonium, leaving her with just one night to eliminate those responsible before she dies of acute radiation sickness. To this end, Kate kidnaps wayward teenager Ani (newcomer Miku Martineau), the only person who can gain her access to her uncle, Yakuza boss Kijima (The Wailing’s Jun Kunimura), but as chaos ensues through the night, the pair bond and Kate has to face up to the cold, hard truth of what she’s done before it’s too late. From these deceptively simply seeds a mighty action thriller is born, a flawless, all-but-peerless rollercoaster that quite comfortably rivals the likes of the John Wick films (clearly one of its main influences), Nicolas-Troyan using his dazzling visual flair to exquisite effect to give the consistently spectacular fight sequences, shootouts and car chases a particularly eye-popping edge, while also coaxing some excellent performances from his talented cast – Winstead is phenomenal in one of the very best roles I’ve ever seen her play, a stone-cold badass who owns every fight but also breaks our hearts pretty much every time she has to get serious, while Martineau makes a truly awesome debut in fine style, investing Ani with a cocky swagger that’s just a brittle mask hiding deep reserves of inner pain and trauma, while Kunimura and his fellow Japanese cinema heavyweight Tadanobu Asano (as scheming, ambitious Yakuza underboss Renji) both bring effortless class and gravitas to proceedings, and Woody Harrelson once again reminds us what an impressive dramatic actor he can be as Kate’s mentor and handler, Varrick. Knuckle-whitening, gripping, provocative and powerful in equal measure, this is action cinema at its most concise and effective, another winner for Netflix and the genre as a whole. I just wish I could have seen it on the big screen …

4. NOBODY – do you love the John Wickmovies but you just wish they took themselves a bit less seriously? Well fear not, because Derek Kolstad has delivered fantastically on that score, the JW screenwriter mashing his original idea up with the basic premise of the Taken movies (former government spook/assassin turned unassuming family man is forced out of retirement and shit gets proper trashed as a result) and injecting a big dollop of gallows humour. This time he’s teamed up with Ilya Naishuller, the lunatic genius who directed the deliriously insane but also thoroughly brilliant Hardcore Henry, and the results are absolutely unbeatable, a jet black action comedy bursting with neat ideas, wonderfully offbeat characters and ingenious plot twists. Better Call Saul’s Bob Odenkirk is perfect casting as Hutch Mansell, the aforementioned ex-“Auditor”, a CIA hitman who grew weary of the life and quit to find some semblance of normality with his wife Becca (Connie Nielsen), with whom he’s had two kids. Ultimately, he seems to have “overcompensated”, and his life has stagnated, Hutch following an autopiloted daily routine that’s left him increasingly unfulfilled … then fate intervenes and a series of impulsive choices end up with him falling back on old ways while defending a young woman from drunken thugs on a late night bus ride. Problem is, said lowlifes work for the Russian Mob, specifically Yulian Kuznetsov (Leviathan’s Aleksei Serebryakov), a Bratva boss charged with guarding the Obshak, who must exact brutal vengeance in order to save face. Cue much bloody violence and entertaining chaos … Kolstad’s razor sharp writing married with Naishuller’s singularly BONKERS vision means that the anarchy is dialled right up to eleven, while the gleefully dark sense of humour shot through makes the occasionally surreal and bitingly satirical observations on offer all the more exquisite. Odenkirk is a low-key joy throughout, initially emasculated and pathetic but becoming more comfortable in his skin as he reconnects with his old self, while Serebryakov hams things up spectacularly, chewing the scenery with aplomb; Nielsen, meanwhile, brings her characteristic restrained classiness to proceedings, Christopher Lloyd and the RZA are clearly having the time of their lives as, respectively, Hutch’s retired FBI agent father David and fellow ex-spook half-brother Harry, and there’s a wonderfully game cameo from the incomparable Colin Salmon as Hutch’s former handler, the Barber. Altogether then, this is the perfect marriage of two fantastic worlds – an action-packed thrill ride as explosively impressive as John Wick, but also a wickedly subversive laugh riot every bit as blissfully inventive as Hardcore Henry – not to mention the strong possibilities of another hit action cinema franchise for Kolstad to pen …

3. THE SUICIDE SQUAD – the absolute most fun I had at the cinema in 2021 was this long-awaited (thanks a bunch, COVID) redress of another frustrating imbalance from the hit and miss DCEU superhero franchise, in which Guardians of the Galaxy writer-director James Gunn finally delivered a PROPER Suicide Squad movie after David Ayer’s painfully compromised first stab at the property back in 2016. That movie was enjoyable enough and had some great moments, but ultimately it was a clunky mess, and while some of the characters were done (quite) well, others were painfully botched, even ruined entirely. Thankfully Warner Bros. clearly learned their lesson, giving Gunn free reign to do whatever he wanted, and the end result is about as close to perfect as the DCEU has come to date. Once again the peerless Viola Davis plays US government official Amanda Waller, head of ARGUS and the undisputable most evil bitch in all the DC Universe, who presides over the metahuman prisoners of the notorious supermax Belle Reve Prison, cherry-picking inmates for her pet project Taskforce X, the titular Suicide Squad sent out to handle the kinds of jobs nobody else wants, in exchange for years off their sentences but controlled by explosive implants injected into the base of their skulls. Their latest mission sees another motley crew of D-bags dispatched to the fictional South African island nation of Corto Maltese to infiltrate Jotunheim, a former Nazi facility in which a dangerous extra-terrestrial entity is being developed into a fearful bioweapon, with orders to destroy the project in order to keep it out of the hands of a hostile anti-American regime which has taken control of the island through a violent coup. Where the first Squad felt like a clumsily-arranged selection of stereotypes with a few genuinely promising characters unsuccessfully moulded into a decidedly forced found family, this new batch are convincingly organic – they may be dysfunctional and they’re almost all definitely BAD GUYS, but they WORK, the relationship dynamics that form between them feeling genuinely earned. Gunn has already proven a master of putting a bunch of A-holes together and forging them into band of “heroes”, and he’s definitely pulled the job off again here, dredging the bottom of the DC Rogues Gallery’s barrel for its most ridiculous D-listers and somehow managing to make them compelling. Sure, returning Squad-member Harley Quinn (the incomparable Margot Robbie, magnificent as ever) has already become a fully-realised character thanks to Birds of Prey, so there wasn’t much heavy-lifting to be done here, but Gunn genuinely seems to GET the character, so our favourite pixie-esque Agent of Chaos is an unbridled and unpredictable joy here, while fellow veteran Colonel Rick Flagg (a particularly muscular and game Joel Kinnaman) has this time received a much needed makeover, Gunn promoting him from being the first film’s sketchily-drawn “Captain Exposition” and turning him into a fully-ledged, well-thought-out human being with all the requisite baggage, including a newfound sense of humour; the newcomers, meanwhile, are a fascinating bunch – reluctant “leader” Bloodsport/Robert DuBois (a typically robust and playful Idris Elba), unapologetic douchebag Peacemaker/Christopher Smith (probably the best performance I’ve EVER seen John Cena deliver), and socially awkward and seriously hard-done-by nerd (and by far the most ridiculous DC villain of all time) the Polka-Dot Man/Abner Krill (a genuinely heart-breaking hangdog performance from Ant-Man’s David Dastmalchian); meanwhile there’s a fine trio of villainous turns from the film’s resident Big Bads, with Juan Diego Botta (Good Behaviour) and Joaquin Cosio (Quantum of Solace, Narcos: Mexico) making strong impressions as newly-installed dictator Silvio Luna and his corrupt right hand-man General Suarez, although both are EASILY eclipsed by the typically brilliant Peter Capaldi as louche and quietly deranged supervillain The Thinker/Gaius Greives (although the film’s ULTIMATE threat turns out to be something a whole lot bigger and more exotic). The film is ROUNDLY STOLEN, however, by a truly adorable double act (or TRIPLE act, if you want to get technical) – Daniella Melchior makes her breakthrough here in fine style as sweet, principled and kind-hearted narcoleptic second-generation supervillain Ratcatcher II/Cleo Cazo, who has the weird ability to control rats (and who has a pet rat named Sebastian who frequently steals scenes all on his own), while a particular fan-favourite B-lister makes his big screen debut here in the form of King Shark/Nanaue, a barely sentient anthropomorphic Great White “shark god” with an insatiable appetite for flesh and a naturally quizzical nature who was brilliantly mo-capped by Steve Agee (The Sarah Silverman Project, who also plays Waller’s hyperactive assistant John Economos) but then artfully completed with an ingenious vocal turn from Sylvester Stallone. James Gunn has crafted an absolute MASTERPIECE here, EASILY the best film he’s made to date, a riotous cavalcade of exquisitely observed and perfectly delivered dark humour and expertly wrangled chaos that has great fun playing with the narrative flow, injects countless spot-on in-jokes and irreverent but utterly essential throwaway sight-gags, and totally endears us to this glorious gang of utter morons right from the start (in which Gunn delivers one of the most skilful deep-fakes in cinematic history). Sure, there’s also plenty of action, and it’s executed with the kind of consummate skill we’ve now come to expect from Gunn (the absolute highlight is a wonderfully bonkers sequence in which Harley expertly rescues herself from captivity), but like everything else it’s predominantly played for laughs, and there’s no getting away from the fact that this film is an absolute RIOT. By far the funniest thing I saw all year, and if I’m honest the best of the DCEU offerings to date, too (only the exceptional Birds of Prey can compare) – if Warner Bros. have any sense they’ll give Gunn more to do VERY SOON …

2. A QUIET PLACE, PART II – while UK cinemas finally reopened in early May, I was determined that my first trip back to the Big Screen for 2021 was gonna be something SPECIAL, and indeed I already knew what that was going to be. Thankfully I was not disappointed by my choice – 2018’s A Quiet Placewas MY VERY FAVOURITE horror movie of the 2010s, an undeniable masterclass in suspense and sustained screen terror wrapped around a refreshingly original killer concept, and I was among the many fans hoping we’d see more in the future, especially after the film’s teasingly open ending. Against the odds (or perhaps not), writer-director/co-star John Krasinski has pulled off the seemingly impossible task of not only following up that high-wire act, but genuinely EQUALLING it in levels of quality – picking up RIGHT where the first film left off (at least after an AMAZING scene-setting opening in which we’re treated to the events of Day 1 of the downfall of humanity), rejoining the remnants of the Abbott family as they’re forced by circumstances to up-sticks from their idyllic farmhouse home and strike out into the outside world once more, painfully aware at all times that they must maintain perfect silence to avoid the ravenous attentions of the lethal blind alien beasties that now sit at the top of the food chain. Circumstances quickly become dire, however, and embattled mother Evelyn (Emily Blunt) is forced to ally herself with estranged family friend Emmett (Cillian Murphy), now a haunted, desperate vagrant eking out a perilous existence in an abandoned factory, in order to safeguard the future of her children Regan (Millicent Simmonds), Marcus (Noah Jupe) and their newborn baby brother. Regan, however, discovers evidence of more survivors, and with her newfound weapon against the aliens she recklessly decides to set off on her own in the hopes of aiding them before it’s too late … it may only be his second major blockbuster as a director, but Krasinski has once again proven he’s a heavyweight talent, effortlessly carving out fresh ground in this already well-realised dystopian universe while also playing magnificently to the established strengths of what came before, delivering another peerless thrill-ride of unbearable tension and knuckle-whitening terror. The central principle of utilising sound at a very strict premium is once again strictly adhered to here, available sources of dialogue once again exploited with consummate skill while sound design and score (another moody triumph from Marco Beltrami) again become THE MOST IMPORTANT aspects of the whole production. The ruined world is once again realised beautifully throughout, most notably in the nightmarish environment of a wrecked commuter train, and Krasinski cranks up the tension before unleashing it in merciless explosions in a selection of harrowing encounters which are guaranteed to leave viewers in a puddle of sweat. The director mostly stays behind the camera this time round, but he does (obviously) put in an appearance in the opening flashback as the late Lee Abbott, making a potent impression which leaves a haunting absence that’s keenly felt throughout the remainder of the film, while Blunt continues to display mother lion ferocity as she fights to keep her children safe and Jupe plays crippling fear magnificently but is now starting to show a new spine of steel as Marcus finally starts to find his courage; the film once again belongs, however, to Simmonds, the young deaf actress once and for all proving she’s a genuine star in the making as she invests Regan with fierce wilfulness and stubborn determination that remains unshakeable even in the face of unspeakable horrors, and the relationship she develops with Emmett, reluctant as it may be, provides a strong new emotional focus for the story, Murphy bringing an attractive wounded humanity to his role as a man who’s lost anything and is being forced to learn to care for something again. This is another triumph of the genre AND the artform in general, a masterpiece of atmosphere, performance and storytelling which builds on the skilful foundations laid by the first film as well as setting things up perfectly for a third instalment which is all but certain to follow. I definitely can’t wait.

1. DUNE, PART ONE – throughout all of 2021 (and 2020, to be honest), there was one film I was looking forward to more than ANY OTHER, which made the frequent COVID-caused delays in its release all the more gut-wrenchingly frustrating. Frank Herbert’s original novel, one of the true, definitive space operas which pretty much wrote the rules on how this particular sub-genre is handled today, is basically my favourite book OF ALL TIME, and while I am somewhat a fan (albeit as something of a flawed guilty pleasure) of the clunky and decidedly mismanaged David Lynch film and the far more faithful but ultimately somewhat rote, cold and heartless early-Noughties miniseries, I can agree with pretty much everyone that it had never before really been done the proper justice it deserved in its adaptations. Like other superfans I was rightly worried that this latest attempt could fuck it up just as bad, or even worse, but I started to grow confident when I heard that Denis Villeneuve, the masterful auteur behind Sicario, Arrival and the simply PHENOMENAL Blade Runner 2049 would be taking up the reins, a fellow superfan who simply adores this book and its overarching universe and wanted to do right by it. This confidence grew as we heard and saw more, so by the time the trailers started to emerge I was getting SO EXCITED … and then the pandemic shat all over it and the delays began, as did our agony. Thankfully, almost a year later than it was due, we FINALLY got to see it and it was EVERY BIT worth the wait, AND THEN SOME. There was never ANY DOUBT that this would top out my list for the year, it was simply impossible anything else could compete with this masterpiece. Villeneuve has exceeded expectations just as surely as he did with his Blade Runner sequel, bringing the far-flung future galactic empire of the Padishah Emperor Shaddam Corrino IV to vivid life through stunning cinematography, incredible production and costume design and visual effects so effortlessly seamless they are INDISTINGUISHABLE from reality (in a way, I guess that extra year for them to tinker away actually paid off here), beautifully capturing the moody, austere grandeur of House Atreides’ homeworld Caladan, the grimy industrial horror of House Harkonnen’s homeworld Geidi Prime, and the bleak, windswept majesty of Arrakis, the titular planet which is the only home of the Spice Melange, a substance of such immense worth and power whole worlds will go to war for its control. He’s also once again assembled a truly magnificent ensemble cast of top-notch talent, each and every role perfectly cast to realise some of the most interesting and intricately-crafted characters I’ve ever come across, so many I could be here all day if praised them all, but the real standouts include Timothee Chalamet as Paul Atreides, artfully treading a very fine line in his portrayal of a character who’s essentially a deconstruction and deep critique of the classic Chosen One literary trope, Oscar Isaac and Rebecca Ferguson as doomed lovers Duke Leito Atreides and the Lady Jessica, Josh Brolin as gruff yet earthily sarcastic Atreides warmaster Gurney Halleck, Stellan Skarsgård as the monstrously twisted Baron Vladimir Harkonnen and Charlotte Rampling as coolly superior Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother Gaius Helen Mohiam, while Zendaya and Javier Bardem do a lot with very small roles as Fremen warriors Chani and Stilgar, who I look forward to seeing fleshed out far more when Part Two finally arrives, but my biggest delight here, without a doubt, is my absolute favourite character in the books (and one of my top-five all time fave literary characters PERIOD), Paul’s best friend, the legendary swordmaster Duncan Idaho – I’ll admit when I first heard the casting I was a little dubious, as much as I love Jason Momoa he’s not at all how I’ve always pictured Duncan in my head (for me he’s always been relatively small and lean and, for some reason, very Scottish), but now I can’t imagine him any other way because he just OWNS this role, an unstoppable force of personality, skill and well-restrained rage who completely dominates every scene he’s in. Altogether I could not have asked for a better adaptation – everything here is precision-crafted and pulled off to perfection, a hand-made labour of love that pays full respects to the source material while making it incredibly relevant to today, from Villeneuve’s artful screenplay, co-written with Jon Spaihts (Prometheus, Doctor Strange) and Eric Roth (Forrest Gump, The Insider, Munich), and peerless, evocative direction to the weighty and evocative action, while this could almost stand as a textbook example of how to consistently deliver a large amount of exposition in the most economical, fluid and entertaining manner possible, informing the viewer without ever talking down to us or getting bogged down in dogshit-dull infodumps. The icing on the cake definitely comes in the form of Hans Zimmer’s intriguingly offbeat and challenging score, definitely one of his most original works to date, which perfectly complements the visuals and emotions it accompanies, but then Zimmer’s another Dune superfan who turned down Christopher Nolan’s offer to score Tenet for the opportunity to compose music for his dream gig. Thankfully Warner Bros. have seen sense and greenlit Villeneuve’s intended Part Two so we can see this story completed on the big screen, and I’m thoroughly confident it’ll be just as stylish, evocative, intense, grand, well-appointed, rewarding, epic and emotional as this very long-awaited Part One …

[wosoimagines]

The Secret Is Out - Jill Roord/Reader

prompt: hi um could you maybe just maybe do a jill roord x reader where the reader plays for arsenal and the uswnt and they win the world cup and no one knows they’re dating and the r or jill accidentally like do something? idk if that makes sense but if you dont want to that’s perfectly fine! hope you are doing well! all love. Okay, look. There are some Dutch translations here. I don’t know if they’re right because I used google translate. If they are wrong and you speak Dutch, please tell me so I can fix them.

warnings: None.

words: 1919

(Y/N) POV

I cheered as soon as the final whistle blew. I had finally done it. I had finally won my first World Cup. After being one of the last players passed over during the 2015 World Cup, it felt amazing to win now in 2019 and to be such a big reason as to why we won.

Although I was happy, there was a part of me that knew that I had ruined a World Cup run for one of the most important people in my life. I immediately looked to search for the Dutch woman who had stole my heart. My smile fell a little at the heartbroken look on her face.

I caught her eye and she smiled at me. I went to move toward her, but before I could, someone had jumped on my back cheering. I wasn’t surprised that it was Sonnett. Lindsey, of course, joined where Sonnett was and Mal and Rose weren’t far behind her. 

Jill shook her head and it did hurt a little that she didn’t want me to join her. But I understood. My team wanted to celebrate and Jill probably just wanted to be with her teammates right now. I glanced to see how Danielle and Viv were as well as Sari. I wasn’t surprised when I watched Jill go join Viv. I knew that the two of them were really close.

Lindsey managed to wrangle Sonnett off my back just before Rose and Mal threw confetti on top of me. I grinned at them as I shook my head to get the few that stuck to my head off of me. I was a little surprised that it was Tierna who had dragged me back to where the team was celebrating on the pitch. I wasn’t too surprised when Christen and Tobin immediately joined me considering that they were my team moms.

We eventually were given our medals and I was a little surprised to find that I had won the bronze boot along with the bronze ball. I had taken a picture of the awards with Megan and Alex since they both won awards as well. I couldn’t help it as my attention was drawn to Jill. I was able to eventually hand my awards off so that they would make it back to the hotel.

Christen and Tobin had stopped me when I moved to go over to Jill. They both congratulated me and I had thanked them. I knew that I would never be the player I was without them taking me under their wing and helping me. I eventually was able to get past them and to the Dutch midfielder that I had been trying to get to.

“Hey,” I softly said.

Jill smiled at me even through her tears. I immediately hugged her. Jill held on tightly to me. The past two months had been hard for both of us to be so close to each other but not able to see each other.

“I’m proud of you,” Jill mumbled into my neck. I pulled back from her and smiled at her. “I’m really proud. I want your jersey.”

“You want to swap?”

The fact that Jill wanted to swap our jerseys even though they would end up at my apartment in London soon enough confused me. Everyone knew that Jill had signed with Arsenal, and while a lot of her stuff was at the apartment, we didn’t have time to unpack it before the two of us had left for the World Cup.

“No, I just want your jersey eventually,” Jill shook her head. I still wasn’t sure what she wanted it for.

“It’s probably going to smell like alcohol after tonight,” I chuckled. I knew that my jersey was probably going to get soaked in alcohol as soon as we entered the locker room.

“(Y/N)!”

I glanced over my shoulder to see Sonnett running toward me with a grin and a white jersey in her hand. Sonnett stopped beside Jill and I before holding the jersey out to me.

“Dude, they got us these cool jerseys,” Sonnett immediately started to say. I knew that if I didn’t get her to leave soon then I wouldn’t get to talk to Jill until after we left the arena. “There’s one for all of us.”

“Cool,” I said as I took the jersey. I glanced at Jill who looked ready to leave.

“Ik bel je later,” Jill muttered causing me to grab on her wrist. (I will call you later.)

“Nee wacht. Geef me een moment om van haar af te komen,” I said causing Sonnett to look surprised at the fact that I knew Dutch. Jill looked surprised that I was willing to get rid of my teammate. (No, wait. Give me just a moment to get rid of her.)

“Can you make sure that there’s some actual beer saved for me to drink and not to just spray around everywhere?” I asked Sonnett.

The defender immediately perked at the mention of beer. Sonnett nodded before rushing off to make sure we had beer to drink. I turned back to Jill before pulling my game jersey off.

“Here, this way I can’t lose it cause you know I lose everything,” I said. Jill chuckled a little at the before taking the jersey from me. 

I saw Jill’s eyes wander down to my waist and she smiled at the new tattoo that I had. I hadn’t shown her yet due to the fact that I had gotten it just after Jill had left to join her own national team and I wanted Jill to see it in person rather than as a picture.

“You actually got it,” Jill whispered.

“Yeah, I did,” I nodded. Jill touched the tattoo and lightly traced it. “Your handwriting and all. I figured it was appropriate since you were the one who started to call me Schatje.” (Little treasure.)

I pulled the jersey Sonnett had given me over my head. I glanced over my shoulder to see if anyone from my team was going to come to drag me away. I wasn’t too surprised that Christen and Tobin were headed my way, but I was surprised by the fact that the whole team was headed here. I looked back at Jill.

“I know we said we didn’t want to go public with our relationship until we got into a groove with both of us being at Arsenal, but my teammates got their kisses from their partners and, it’s been a while-”

I couldn’t finish what I was saying because Jill had pulled me closer to her. I immediately kissed the Dutch player back when I felt her lips crash into mine. I ignored the cheers and shouts behind me, but apparently Jill didn’t because she pulled back not long after. Jill glanced behind me before giving me a kiss by my ear.

“Go join your teammates. I have a room for us at a different hotel where we can have our own little party after you guys get done.”

My jaw slacked but I didn’t have time to say anything to Jill because she had already turned and ran to join her own teammates. I felt someone sling their arm around my shoulder.

“Way to get some, (Y/N),” Ash cheered right in my ear. I wasn’t too surprised that Ali slapped the back of Ash’s head causing the goalie to grumble and rub the back of her head. 

“Hey, Roord!” I called out. Jill turned around to look at me. “Ik hou van je, lieverd.” (I love you, sweetheart.)

“Ik hou ook van je.” (I love you too.)

“Oi, (Y/N)! What about me?”

I shook my head at Danielle. She often teased me over the past two years whenever Jill would call me since we were in different countries. But Danielle had been ready to throw hands for me many times during our matches for Arsenal. 

“Je bent zo behoeftig,” I complained. Danielle threw a glare at me and I laughed at her. “Ik hou ook van jou, kleine krijger.” (You’re so needy. I love you as well, little warrior.)

Danielle smirked at that and I saw her turn to brag about it to Jill. I only shook my head at them before turning to my teammates. I swiped the beer from Kelley’s hand before she could drink from it. Before the older defender could do anything, Christen and Tobin had already moved to my sides probably to talk to me about the relationship I had with Jill. I couldn’t help but smile as I told them about the Dutch woman who had stolen my heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I grinned as Jill came out of the bathroom. I was already dressed since I was having to leave today to head to the US for our celebration. Jill was going to take her time, however, since her team wouldn’t be flying out until much later. Jill was dressed in one of my oversized shirts and a pair of shorts.

“What are you smiling about?”

“How lucky I am,” I said as I stood up from the foot of the bed. “I mean, I just won the World Cup and the woman I want to spend the rest of my life is still here even though she’s the one I had to beat to win the World Cup.”

“You want to spend the rest of your life with me?”

“I mean, yeah, why wouldn’t I?” I furrowed my brow in confusion. “Jill, I’ve been dating you for 3 years now. If I didn’t seriously see us together for the rest of my life, then I wouldn’t still be with you. One day, I’m going to marry you.”

“I also can’t believe you would think that I would leave you because you beat me for the World Cup,” Jill shook her head. She pressed a kiss to my lips. “I can’t wait for you to make me yours forever.”

I grinned as I wrapped my arms around her waist. I wished we could stay like this forever. But sadly we couldn’t. I did have a plane to catch soon.

“I’ll see you in London?”

“Of course you will,” Jill nodded. Jill pulled back from me before digging through her bag. “I have something for you. I was going to wait until we got back to London, but I might as well give it to you now.”

I took the little black box from her and smiled. I opened the box and chuckled when I saw the ring. The ring was a simple silver band with a designed etched into it. I slid the ring onto my finger before pulling my own small black box from my bag.

“I kind of got you one too,” I said as Jill took the box from me. “We were shopping for a ring for Tobin to give to Christen and I wanted to do something special for you. I’m not asking you to marry me, but this is a promise that I will marry you one day.”

Jill grinned before she kissed me. I smiled when she pulled back.

“I’ll see you in London, okay?”

The Dutch woman gave me one last kiss before I grabbed my bags and headed out of the room. I gave her a small wave just before I closed the door behind me. I couldn’t wait for the celebrations to be over and to be on a plane back to London.

[ohheyitsokay]

slowly

Pairing: Jack Daniels (Agent Whiskey) x  (f) ace!reader

Wordcount: 2.2k

Warnings: discussions of sex and related topics, maybe some angst? a lot more analogies than actual descriptions 

Summary: a drive in theatre, a budding relationship, and a whole lot of mutual support

Notes: okay obviously this is a wildly personal topic - I fully understand that asexuality looks different for everyone. For full disclosure, in this story, the reader knows they are somewhere on the asexuality spectrum, but is not aromantic. They are also are on a path of self discovery and are open to learning about themselves. This IS NOT saying asexuals who are like this are growing "better" than those who are not interested. Asexuals who do know what they do and dont want are perfect and do not need to change or compromise as part of their personal growth.

There will be an optional part 2 where they have more conversations about intimacy and explore together what works for them, but again, this is not everyone's story, or the "right" way, it's just... one story.

That being said, I genuinely hope yall enjoy!

>>

You stared at the bashful man in front of you openly, your hands stilling on the groceries you were halfway done unloading.

Even the slightest rustle of the cloth bags was painfully loud in the silence that stretched between you.

Jack had burst through your door, confident as always, but it was a thin layer over his anxious heart. With two long strides, he was pulling you into his arms, almost crushing you against his chest.

Arms winding around his middle, you held him just as tightly before you found your voice again.

“You’re back,” you said, simply amazed that he was a whole week early from the long mission. “When did you get back?”

You hadn’t realized he had picked you up until your feet were on solid ground again, and he was pulling away.

“Just a few hours ago, I had to make it back in time for opening night, right?” he grinned winningly.

You tried not to overthink, feeling a jolt of excitement that he remembered – tonight. The drive-in theatre in town was opening for the season and you had been more than excited. As one of your most consistent movie night friends, Jack had promised to take you, full of butterflies and subtext.

For as close as you’d gotten over the past few months, you weren’t sure what to make of his expression.

“If that’s okay? I should’ve double checked,” you hadn’t responded and it was apparently making him nervous.

“Yeah, Jack, that sounds great,” you reassured him, turning back to your groceries, equally nervous.

If you were being honest, you hadn’t expected him to remember because it had almost felt like an off-hand comment at the time, and you hadn’t wanted to get your hope up to much.

Something was welling in your stomach as you turned away from him fully, putting each item in its respective home in your kitchen. You liked him, of course you liked him. He was bold and kind and passionate, and more handsome than seemed reasonable for a single person. And… and when he was nearby, there was a feeling of safety, just out of reach, like water lapping at your feet at the beach.

It was more than tempting but, same as the ocean, there was also an uneasiness in the unknown. The same uneasiness was present in every relationship you’d ever had – because you had a secret.

Well, it was less of a secret and more… something you were figuring out that you hadn’t talked about much. Despite long late night talks and months of growing close and even slowly falling for each other, you hadn’t quite found the courage to talk to Jack about it yet. The more real the soft, sweet moments between you got, the more the unease filled your bones. You knew how he was with other women, and each time his hand lingered on your hip, your shoulder, your cheek, a quiet voice whispered that he deserved better.

Jack was staring at you, lost in your thoughts as you mechanically worked your way through the bags. His heart ached for you, and he wished more than anything that you trusted him with whatever you were holding back. But he was a determined man – he would do whatever he could to show you that no matter what, he wasn’t going anywhere.

 -

After awhile, Jack coaxed you back to your normal self, telling you as much of his mission as he could and helping you cook dinner. Moving around your kitchen was wonderfully peaceful, a little bubble of intimacy. Food was great for neutralizing anxious thoughts.

The feeling continued into his truck as you excitedly packed blankets and he fought the urge to kiss your adorable face when you found the snacks he’d picked up. Even before he left, in anticipation for tonight, he cleaned the front seat thoroughly, and made sure his radio was in good condition.

The movie went well too, but as much as he wanted to pull you into his arms, press you into his side, be the warmth against the cool night air, there was a hesitation that held him at bay.

Every time he’d reach for you, cautious and gentle, your skin would twitch, almost jumping away before you’d smile at him and lean into it. You seemed happy, but part of your mind was holding you back. As friends, you two were relatively physically affectionate, so he made a mental note to tread light and watch for more cues. Jack never wanted to impose himself on anyone but with you, even less.

So he waited. He had no doubt you’d talk to him when you were ready, and heavens knows that he had plenty of things he had kept buried. It was still nice, hearing you laugh next to him - just him – and seeing the light reflecting off the movie dance across your skin. Talking with you was always easy, even more so without friends or family around and it made Jack ache with eagerness.

As he pulled up to your home, he gently took your hand.

“Darlin, it was plum delightful to take you out tonight,” he said, cursing himself internally for how nervous he sounded. You looked his, eyes catching the streetlight like magic and your gentle squeeze gave him courage.

“I really would like to take you out again, on a proper date,” he couldn’t look away from your eyes, trying to read them through the murkiness. “I really like you,” Jack added, quieter, “but you don’t have to respond right now.”

You nodded, your eyes closing tight as though you were at war with yourself.

You think you like me, but I’m not the type of girl you want to date.

“You don’t have to… tell me, if you’re not ready, but,” he offered after a long moment, his free hand flexing on the steering wheel as he forced himself to examine the bushes on the side of the parking lot. “But I’m listening.”

You felt both hot and cold at the same time. All evening you could feel it coming, knew it was going to happen, knew it had to. He deserved this conversation, and honestly, if there was anyone who made you feel like you did, too, it was Jack.

Inhale, exhale. 

Inhale -

“Okay,” - exhale. 

Remembering that neither of you had work the next day helped. Slowly you let go of your hand and unbuckled your seatbelt, shifting to get comfortable again, the actions thick with significance. He returned it, unbuckling too, and killing the engine.

Jack was so respectful you could cry, his obvious anxiety under control enough not to jump to conclusions – to wait for you.

“I like you, too, Jack, but I don’t think we can ever date,” you forced the words out and his heart nearly shattered, confusion barely holding it together.

Eyebrows so drawn in they almost looked like a solid line, he waited, unable to stop a small shake of his head.

Why not? His entire being screamed. With each second that passed, more and more determination seeped into the cracks of his heart, sticking it together. If you liked him as he liked you, it seemed impossible there was anything between you that couldn’t be overcome.

You saw the question in his eyes and the explanation tumbled out.

“It’s just, I know you – I know the girls you go after and the type of relationships most men want. And,” you were sucking in air, the vulnerability raking through your lungs. “And I don’t know if I can ever give you that.”

He started to protest before his hand covered his mouth, irritated movements over his mustache, his jaw working. What he wanted was you. But he needed to let you keep talking. If he interrupted you now, he might never understand what you meant.

You watched his movements, desperation to give him the explanation he deserved growing in you.

“I’ve had people break up with me because I wont sleep with them,” you shoved the words into the space, the most honest you’d maybe ever been.

Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that. Your voice was trembling and so quiet only your moving lips confirmed the words as you continued.

“For me, it’s not something I need, or am particularly comfortable with. You,” you swallowed hard, unable to look at the man beside you. “You deserve someone you can be with, however you want.”

You took another deep breath, feeling light and surprisingly at peace with your honesty. Even the impending rejection felt less scary, now that you had said it all out loud. The trembles settled as you concluded, “I’m still figuring myself out and I just cant guarantee I’ll ever give you what you deserve.”

Of all the conversations with all the others before this, this moment felt the most freeing. It was wild to have such an intimate conversation before you even kissed, but… the foundation of trust that Jack had given you had not been lost on you. You found yourself smiling, looking at him, finally.

His expression had loosened, processing and connecting the dots, his deep eyes unfocused before they slid closed.

Now it was your turn to wait, to be patient, and listen.

Part of him wanted to yell that he wasn’t like the others, that he didn’t care and even that he would wait and work until you were ready. But that wasn’t right, and he knew it.

Inside him, deep, deep down, there was a small light. A candle of flame underneath a glacier: a touch of hope slowly warming its way through layers and layers and centuries of expectations, fear, confusion, and chaos. It was going strong, it just need more time.

“Darlin,” he looked at you, finally, meeting your eyes and feeling for the first time that they were a clear window into your soul. “You are… everything, to me. So… so let’s just take some time to process this. Would that be okay, sweetheart?”

That was the first time anyone had ever responded that way. It was the scariest thing, but it was perfect. You were overwhelmed with the rawness and a glance at the radio told you it was 2 am. Not a time to be making life altering decisions, anyway. Nodding, you pressed a chaste kiss to his cheek. The movement was intimate and confident – something that shouldn’t have been possible, but it was.

Jack’s large hand grasped at your neck and jaw, pulling you into him, pressing his forehead on yours. The hairs of his mustache just ticked your lip, but he made no move, respecting one final boundary for the night.

With a squeeze, he let you go, watching with longing eyes as you hopped out of his truck and ran to your front door. The smile you gave him before you slipped inside was the seal, engraving tonight into his memories forever.

And he drove home, his thoughts louder than the wind and the crickets and his pounding heart.

-

Jack invited you over a few days later, a Sunday afternoon. It would be the first time you’d talked, and you were surprisingly calm. For some reason, you felt like you’d be closer to him no matter what happened.

He heard your car on the long gravel driveway and greeted you with an all-encompassing hug. You held each other, like lifelines, for long moments before he pulled you inside.

“My mama sent cookies,” he said, motioning for you to sit at the tall table he had as he set down the plate. You couldn’t help but smile, knowing their Sunday lunches and her beloved baking well. He remained standing across from you, aware of the awkwardness, but eager to get his words right.

“This is all new to me,” he said, wishing suddenly that he’d made tea so his throat wouldn’t feel so dry. “If you really don’t wanna be with me, that’s your choice,” he said, knowing it was right and hating the option, “but I really – you’re just so – I can’t let you go,” his thoughts were jumbling together on his tongue.

It was grounding, when your hands found his, reaching across the table as you sat forward on your stool.

“What if we just took it slow?” you said, and his heart stopped.

“Please,” he managed, and your own chest felt like it would burst. “Would it be alright, darlin?” Jack’s hands held yours, his expression eager.

“Could – could we figure out what works for us? Figure this all out together?” You were close to crying, you wanted that so bad.

“I can’t promise I’ll change or… or what direction I’ll grow,” you said, needing to say it again, needing to be sure.

“I can’t, either, darlin,” he said, and you realized he was right and you would support each other, no matter what.

“But all I need is you. Whatever and however much you’ll give me. That’s more than enough.”

He didn’t say for now.

And you believed him.

Since he was still standing, it made it easy for you to tug him around the table, and you leaned into his chest. It felt safe, safer than you had ever thought was possible for you.

“Okay,” you told the flannel he was wearing, “Let’s figure it out together.” And even though you couldn’t see him, you knew he was smiling, too.

<<

Taglist:

@fangirl-316 @0celestialbitch0 @scribbledghost

[vanderlindemorgans]

Cross My Heart (Chapter 2)

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Reader

Rating: Explicit/18+

Summary: A traitorous Agent Whiskey returns to the United States on the run. Being cast out by Statesman, he soon finds that you’re the only person he can turn to - the embittered former flame from years long passed

Word count: 2.8k

Warnings: Eventual smut, some references to alcoholism and drug use. Reader is in her late twenties but there is an age gap between her and Whiskey. Chapter specific warnings are as follows - mentions of alcohol, descriptions of blood, Whiskey being a bit of an ass and some brief talk of dead relatives. 

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You watched him as he settled himself back down into the couch, taking note of every breath he took while he reclined back, refusing to look you straight in the eye. That didn’t bother you too much - you were too busy studying the myriad of bruises and cuts splayed along his body, from the tears and scuffs in his denim jacket to taking note of his perfectly maintained Stetson. How on Earth that thing had managed to escape from whatever situation Jack had gotten himself into unscathed mystified you, but from what you remembered of him you knew he loved that damn hat to death. 

Neither of you had said a word to each other since he stumbled through your front door only moments before, that heightened sense of tension undoubtedly ripe in the air. You thought if you ever saw Jack Daniels face again that you’d have a couple of cutting remarks to say to him - if you ever did think about him that is, and you usually didn’t. Jack hadn’t haunted your thoughts for years now, memories of the summer you two first met and the cold dark of winter when you fell apart falling away to the sands of time. The last thing you ever expected was to have him show up on the front step of your ranch, looking like he’d been beaten within an inch of his life. Gazing over him now, you felt it was somewhat your obligation to make sure he was fine: despite your less than amicable feelings towards him you weren’t about to let him die on your couch. 

“Can I get you anything?” you asked him, a hint of uncertainty to your tone. He turned his gaze towards you and shrugged slightly, looking no less unsettled than he had a moment before. “I’m fine for now. Trust me, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it looks”. 

“You sure about that? No offense, but you kind of look like a wreck” you shot back, to which he replied with a small scoff. “Nice to see you too, sweetheart. I forgot how hospitable you were to those in your care”. 

You could feel a spark of heat rise in your cheeks at his words, and almost wanted to retort back with something equally if not more biting. That fucking bastard. Here he was, lying on your couch looking like he’d walked out of a gang fight and he had the gall to give you attitude. “Alright, ignoring your completely rude and uncalled for attitude for a moment, you still haven’t answered my question. What the fuck did you get yourself into?” you asked.

There was a momentary pause where Jack looked back up at you, an expression of remorse crossing over his face in the brief glance he shot at you. Turning his gaze back down towards the wooden coffee table before him, he shook his head and sighed. “Sorry about that, darlin’.I just...I got myself into a bit of a tight situation. Things have gotten complicated now” he explained, prompting you to raise your brow at him. 

“Yeah, I can see that. Who did this to you?”. 

“Just some other agents. It doesn’t matter” he replied curtly. 

“From where? Statesman?” you asked. After dating him for about a year, you were well aware of his position as an agent to Statesman, and you knew exactly what that job entailed. Jack had been injured before, sometimes worse than how he was now. You remembered once he came back from a mission with several different bones broken, multiple gunshot wounds and a concussion. You’d been left worried for weeks after that as he recovered, only being allowed short visits to see him due to the very nature of his job. This time was different though. You knew Jack was a survivor, but for him to show up out of the blue after several years of no contact, looking the way he did, something was horribly wrong. Studying his expression intensely, you couldn’t help but let out a low sigh in frustration. It annoyed you to some degree of how evasive his answers had been thus far. It was almost like he was ashamed to even say what had happened to him, ashamed to be even talking to you. 

“No, no, they...they weren’t. That’s not important right now though” he finally answered, running the edges of his fingers over his tattered jeans. If it were any other day you would have been more upset at his dismissal of your question but upon seeing the troubled look on his face you felt it best to let it go. An uncomfortable silence had started to hang over the room, the space between you and him feeling more and more tense as the moments ticked by. You looked down at your shoes, taking note of every scuff and streak of mud as if they were the most interesting things in the world, and giving yourself another minute of hesitation before blurting out “Why are you in Dallas?”. 

“It just so happened to be the place the cargo plane I was stowing away on landed. I wasn’t tryin’ to seek you out or anything, if you’ll believe me”. 

His explanation gave cause for you to raise a single brow at him once more, not entirely believing it to be a coincidence that he just happened to show up in Dallas after seven years of radio silence. “Really? Why come here then? Don’t you have your agent buddies to fall back on for shit like this?” you inquired, your tone coming off far more biting and bitter than you originally intended it to. You could see Jack seize up slightly at your callousness, a pained expression passing over his face that made your breath catch in your throat for a second before you darted your eyes away from him, focusing back down to your shoes and deriding yourself for even having a moment of fleeting attraction to him. All these years and those pathetic puppy dog eyes still managed to get to you. Damn him. 

“Usually, yeah. Not this time round though. I’ve…” he stopped himself, his eyes betraying the deep wounded pain woven within them, strengthening every second longer he dwelled on the memory of his former glory. “I’ve been kicked out of Statesman. Or, well, I haven’t officially been kicked but after what happened the other day I’d be a damn fool if I even tried to walk through their doors again”. 

You blinked at him in confusion, his words not fully registering with you. Statesman kicked him out? Him of all people? You briefly considered the possibility that he was simply just pulling your leg and trying to gain some sort of sympathy but upon remembering the pained expression on his face you were instantly told all you needed to know about the truth behind his words. Ok, so he’s not lying, but still...why? “I find it hard to believe that they’d just boot out their best field agent. What did you do to warrant that?”. 

You could see Jack’s mouth twitch slightly, indicating that he wasn’t entirely up for divulging such information. Running a hand through his hair, he trained his eyes to the ground and refused to look up at you as he went on to explain what exactly had gone down to lead him there. “Long story short, I had a disagreement of sorts with a couple of agents from a fellow organisation, and may have gone against Champ’s direct orders in order to hinder them. I guess you could say I went rogue” he elaborated, intentionally trying to keep some of the finer details out. You had half a mind to push for more info, though after another seconds thought you decided against that idea and instead settled for nodding at him semi-sympathetically.  “I see. So...why are you here then?”. 

He didn’t answer you right away, rather finding himself to be staring straight upwards at the wooden beams on the ceiling above. You analysed his expression, trying to find any sort of hint towards what he was thinking. Your eyes kept being drawn back to that dried gash of blood across his cheek, and you winced at the thought of him being in any sort of prolonged pain. Maybe you should have fetched some medical supplies for him after all - knowing Jack and the way he was, he always liked to downplay the dangers associated with his job. Every time he wound up in Statesman’s medical wing needing some sort of bullet taken out of him he never once admitted to ever being in pain. Getting injured was part of the job, he always said, so it wasn’t worth it to worry over him everytime he got hurt in the line of duty. He was an expert at saying he was fine when it was all too clear that everything wasn’t. 

The sound of Jack sighing heavily pulled you from your thoughts, looking up to see him with his head in his hands, practically exhibiting every clear sign of tension in the book. A small part of you wanted to feel sorry for him, for seeing him like this. “Look, I realise this may be too much to ask of you, considering our history, and part of me hates that I have to in the first place but...I have nowhere else to go. I can’t go back home to either New York or Kentucky. I’m not an agent anymore, so I can’t ask any of them for help, and I’m almost a hundred percent sure that I’ve got some sort of bounty on my head now. I’m on the lam as they call it”  he prattled. “I need a place to hide out, to lay low while I sort some shit out”.

The day had already been weird enough already, hearing him ask for your help was only just the cherry on top. Blinking slowly and with your mouth hanging open in utter disbelief, you blurted out “Let me get this straight: you need my help?”.

“Just for a little while, and I promise, sweetheart, as soon as I’m able to I’ll be outta your hair” Jack assured, turning his eyes upwards to you so that you could see his lovely brown eyes, the very same ones that you felt yourself get lost in all those long years ago. “I would never ask this of you unless I had no other choice. You and I both know that”. 

You were at a complete loss for words. Between his tone and those frustratingly sweet eyes of his, you weighed your options carefully on what you should do. Should you let him stay with you? On one hand, with what he’d done to you years ago, something that still left you hurting even now, some part of you felt hostile towards him being around again. You remembered being young and 21, giving your heart out to him and only ever receiving empty promises in the end, leaving you with the painful memory of standing crestfallen on a flight of marbled stairs, on a night that you had sworn was gonna end with a ring ending instead with a shattered heart and never-ending glasses of merlot on your lips. Eventually, you’d learnt to live with the heartache. And pretty soon, for the most part, you’d forgotten. Seeing him there, tonight, in your living room of all places, was starting to bring those feelings back. No matter how hard you tried to stifle them, ignore them and focus on the matter at hand, you still felt the bitterness creep into your tone every time you opened your mouth.

Still, even though Jack had hurt you, you couldn’t just leave him out with nothing. From what he told you, he truly had nowhere else to run. If you threw him out now, he could be dead within hours. The mere thought of that made your heart sting, and despite any bad blood between you two you weren’t heartless, so with a small sigh, you at last settled on the answer you would give to him. “Alright. I’ll let you stay. On one condition though: you gotta help out a little with some of the ranch handling stuff. Once you’re all healed up from your injuries of course” you posited. “And don’t bother trying to butter me up, I’m not enough of an idiot to fall for your charms twice. I’m doing you a favour so it would be in your best interest to avoid pissing me off. You think you can handle that?”. 

He smirked back at you, though it was void of it’s usual playfulness and felt to be more out of sadness than anything resembling his usual jackassery. “You drive a hard bargain, sweetheart, but yeah, of course. I’d be more than happy to help ya out”. 

“Alright. Now…” you nodded at him before turning on your heel in the direction of the kitchen in search of some bandage and gauze for his injuries. “I am going to get you some medical supplies because even though you said you’re fine you clearly aren’t, and I’m not about to have you dropping dead in my goddamn living room. The blood would get all over the carpet and I ain’t lookin’ to pay to get it cleaned” you announced, dropping down to your knees and rifling through one of the lower kitchen cabinets for all the necessary items. 

You could hear him chuckle from the living room, imagining him to be wearing a more toned down version of that charming grin he always seemed to have on him. “Ah, you wound me, my dear girl. Where are your folks?”. 

His question made your heart seize in your chest, your hands grasped around the roll of bandage and bottle of antiseptic you’d scrounged out from the back of the cupboard. Rising to your feet, you stuttered on your words as you led yourself back into the living room with an arm full of different medical equipment. “They...they died a couple of years ago. It’s been just me for awhile” you answered back, doing your best to ignore the look of surprise that spread across Jack’s face. “I’m sorry to hear that, darlin’”.

Tearing off a strip of bandage, you motioned for him to give you his arm so that you could begin tending to some of the deeper cuts on him. “It’s ok. Well, not ok, really, but what can you do?” you murmured, brushing the length of his torn denim jacket out of the way and pressing down a dash of cold antiseptic cream across one of his cuts, watching as how he winced slightly from the sting. “Life goes on. It has to, or else you get left frozen”. Shaking your head, you began to tie the strip of fabric around his forearm, eager to get off the topic of your deceased loved ones as soon as possible. “I’ll put you up in the guest room upstairs. Don’t go through any of the shit in the cupboards, ok? It’s private stuff”. 

“I would never dream of doing so, sugar”.

“Good. Lucky for you, none of these gashes seem too bad so they’ll most likely heal within a couple of days. I’ll just put a bit of adhesive over that awful one you got across your cheek and you’ll be right as rain in no time” you said, popping open the box of adhesive bandages. 

Jack smiled at you, albeit weakly as you smoothed the bandage over his cheek. “Thank you for doing this for me. I mean it. Honestly, I didn’t think you were even gonna let me stay here”. 

You shot him an odd look at that comment, leaning back down to pick up the various bits of first aid paraphernalia off the floor to deposit back onto the coffee table. “What do you take me for, Jack? I ain’t a cold hearted bitch. I hate you for what you did but I don’t want you to die or anything” you quipped, staring at him straight in the eyes as you said those words. Not allowing him a second to respond, you turned away and began to walk off towards the stairs, starting to feel the exhaustion of the day sink in once again when you placed your foot on the first rung.“You’re all good to go. I’d say go upstairs and get some rest, lord knows that’s what I’ll be doing. If you need anything give me a shout ok?”. 

He nodded back at you wordlessly, abruptly turning away afterwards the lean against the couch with his back turned to you, lost back in his own thoughts. You allowed your gaze to linger on him for a moment longer then dragged yourself up the stairs and towards your bedroom, flicking off the hallway lights as you went. In an instant after you heard the click of your bedroom door shut behind you, you allowed yourself to groan out in agony at your entire predicament. So, your ex-boyfriend is on the run and hiding out in your house. This could prove to be interesting...

[agentamethystelf]

Enouement

Peggysous week day 6: Emotion words

Summary/ notes: Peggy had been in love before, but there was something different about it this time.

Day 6 of Peggysous week was emotion words! This was one of the first words I found and I just had to choose it. As for the definition:

Enouement - The bittersweetness of having arrived in the future, seeing how things turn out, but not being able to tell your past self

Also posted here on AO3

"Peggy?"

Daniel's head poked around the open back door of his Los Angeles bungalow. Peggy sat in one of the patio chairs, dressed in her nightgown with a thin blanket drawn across her shoulders. She stared pensively off into the distance, seemingly unaware of Daniel's approach.

Peggy glanced over when she heard Daniel's crutches tapping across the wooden deck. The steady step tap step tap of his strides was a welcome comfort by now.

"Good morning darling."

Before Daniel could reach the other chair, Peggy shifted in her seat to make room next to her. He ended up sitting more behind her than to the side, letting Peggy drape the blanket over both of them and tuck herself up against his chest.

"You should be glad I take up less space than I used to, otherwise we'd be a bit stuck here," Daniel joked, hoping the casual air would loosen the tension he could see was tying her in a knot. "What's on your mind?"

For a moment, he received no response. So he let Peggy somehow curl deeper into him as the chirping of some far off cricket broke the stillness of the early morning.

Daniel had just reached up to run his hands through her hair (he knew physical touch helped clear her mind sometimes) when her whispered response slipped out.

"You."

"Me?" he muttered, equally as hushed, into the crown of her head.

"You, this... us." Peggy turned her head to the side, a bright yet uncharacteristically shy smile across her face. "All good thoughts, I assure you."

"Well that's a relief."

Peggy huffed out a laugh, turning back to face the garden she had taken a surprising liking to. After many a gardening tip from Mr and Mrs Jarvis (as well as some seeds to get her started) she had managed to plant a respectable enough flower patch. A rosebush, bare of flowers for the time being, was surrounded by a small collection of peonies and tulips and a small palm tree of all things was growing in the back corner. She hadn't planted that one, but didn't mind it being there.

She shifted a little, and Daniel could tell she was ready to talk.

"I've been in love before. One and a half times, I'd say."

"A half?"

Peggy was sure that if she looked around at him, she would find an eyebrow raised and one of his infuriatingly curious smiles across his lips.

"Let me finish," she scolded lightly, grinning nonetheless. "With Fred everything was black and white. A lady must do this, a lady must not do that. Looking back, I don't know if I really loved him or if I just liked the stability of it all. I liked feeling as if I was doing the right thing. It might have been the right thing for my parents, but not for me. Michael made me see that, so I left to join the SOE."

Throughout it all, Daniel just listened. Peggy had noticed long ago that he was very good at that.

"After that, I met Steve. He was small, just a regular man from Brooklyn who wanted to do the right thing. The serum made him as strong on the outside as he was on the inside and then all of a sudden, he was Captain America: the star-spangled man with a plan. I went off to Europe and he went on tour to raise money and morale. Then he ran off to save his best friend from Hydra and I realised how much I'd grown to care for him. But we were over before we even began. One kiss and a rushed plan to go on a date, and then all of a sudden he was gone."

Peggy breathed in deeply, noticing that at one point during her speech, Daniel had started stroking swirling patterns onto her arm. She felt a huge weight lift from her shoulders as she reached a hand up to grab the one stroking her arm.

"You see people talking about true love and the one and how that only comes around once. I thought I'd lost that, and I was prepared to spend the rest of my life alone. Until I met you."

She couldn't help but smile when she thought of their journey up to that point.

"While I didn't feel like this from the very start, I have always respected you as an agent and as a friend. You treat me like an equal but you aren't afraid to challenge me if you think I'm doing something reckless. You're always there for me and you're the most loving partner I could have ever asked for."

"I love you too Peggy," Daniel said simply, filling the quiet moment. He dropped his head, kissing her shoulder. "Love you so much."

"The only regret I have is how bloody long it took us to get here."

They both laughed, letting the early morning joy wash over them.

"Did anything bring this on or are all of your thoughts this philosophical?"

Peggy sighed, the breath leaving her as her shoulders slumped. "Sometimes I wish I could send a message to myself immediately after the war. Just to let her, me, know that everything would get better."

"I know how you feel," he answered stroking a hand down Peggy's hand. "But everything did work out quite nicely, didn't it?"

[justasparkwritings]

Codename Cupid: Chapter 16

Previous: How Cricket Got Her Name 

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook X Reader/OFC/You

Genre: Secret AgentAU, AgentAU, Government Agent AU

Rating: PG15

Word Count: 3.04K

Warnings: Swearing 

Summary: Our lovely P.I. goes on the search for Min Yoongi, and stumbles into the identity of the mystery man with Taehyung. 

(this is... rough? did not expect it to be so long...) 

Missing Min Yoongi

Present Day

           My sister always tells me she’s given me all she can, that she can’t help me past my one favor a year. It’s a ploy, a deception, a boldfaced lie she tells at work or anytime we’re in earshot of anyone else. Does she misuse her government clearance? Yes. Does she defy laws and challenge the ethical code? Yes. Has she ever gotten caught? No. You’d think the government would put more tabs on her, considering her sister is a registered and licensed PI, but no, no one seems to bat an eye.

           Min Yoongi, Park Yoongi, Yoongi, is nonexistent. I barely understand what he did at Lee Enterprises, let alone how he ended up bedding Euna. He supposedly comes from no money, no name to build off of, nothing. His grades were fine, his college experience came and went with nary a note of youthful rebellion. Now, now that he’s no longer at Enterprises, I cannot fucking find him. Nothing on the web, nothing in the statewide system, nothing in the national system. No death certificates, no marriage licenses, nothing.

           All I’ve got are his charges, well, Euna’s charges against him.

           Cheating in the 1st degree, no proof, no photos or receipts or basic evidence of his behavior. She had nothing but her recollection of the fight they had, and minimal information on what led to the break up. From her manifesto, it seems that Yoongi was pulling away and she clung to him, claws drawing blood, trying to get him to stay. He didn’t, clearly. With only that to go off of, it’s no wonder I can’t find Min Yoongi, and I’m beginning to think that just maybe, Min Yoongi doesn’t exist. He’s her Snuffleupagus, and I’m starting to not believe.

           While I’m unsure if Yoongi exists, I do know a person who does.

           The man with Taehyung.

           Spectacled and broad shouldered, quaffed hair and arms the size of tree trunks, this man exists. He goes to the gym regularly, religiously, makes his coffee at home, and frequents his local nursery. The man is obsessed with plants, it seems unhealthy. Multiple days a week he’s carrying one, or more, I have photos of him watering them, speaking to them… He tends to them with such care, such love, it’s mesmerizing. He goes to work, some corporation, and once a week meets Taehyung. They’re clearly pals, best friends, brothers. They laugh and eat and enjoy one another. It’s cute, their friendship date. Once in a while, Jimin joins them. The three laugh uproariously and often draw attention for their volume. The unidentified man doesn’t seem to understand how loud he is, his baritone resonating enough for me to hear.

           I haven’t intentionally bumped into the three of them, yet, but I’ve stationed myself near enough to hear bits and pieces of their conversations. They never discuss work, only music they’re listening to, books they’re reading, podcasts, plants, general culture. Have I written down a few of the artists and podcasts they listen to? Yes. Do I feel dirty about it? Yes.

           But it’s the job, and I tail them for a month before a package arrives. A package with my name on it, waiting outside my apartment door. It’s not addressed, no stamps or packing label. It’s new, not reused as a shipping box or gifted for the umpteenth time, no dingy tape sticking to its brown coating. The box is sitting, like it’s appeared out of thin air. A secure building is only as secure as the tenants make it, and I wouldn’t be surprised if the owner snuck in behind some dummy who didn’t see the harm in letting a potential rapist, stalker, murder, into the building. Taking the package inside, and as my blood continues to cool and chills run down my spine, I delicately open it.

           I know, it could be a bomb. However, the only thought calming me down is the knowledge that my life has never once been a Shonda Rhimes production and thus, I’m not really worried this package is a bomb. Frankly, that’s far more sophisticated than any of the people I’ve worked for and gives them too much credit.

           Inside, there are copious amounts of surveillance photos and a note, written in a script that I’ve seen before.

           “That was your last warning / The line has been drawn and you’re bleeding / Next time, face to face is how we’ll be meeting”  

           Whoever heard of a stalker rhyming?

           I bag the evidence to toss under my bed so Jungkook won’t find it and pull out my list of potential threats.

Check It Once, Check It Twice

William Daniels

Cheated on his wife of 5 years with a stewardess who flew almost exclusively on his flights (big shock)

Threatened to ban me from American Airlines -  Jokes on him, I don’t fly American

Photos in the act & audio recordings

Wife divorced him immediately

He has to pay alimony out the nose

Lives in the area

Allanah McMahon

Arrested and tried for insider trading and embezzlement

Discovered who I was when I was subpoenaed to testify

Still in jail

My testimony added a few years to her sentence … oops

Cassie Harrington

Set up a Multi-Level Marketing scheme

Tried to hide out in Hawaii – but changed her Instagram to private after I’d already followed her

Ordered to pay back all the money she stole

On parole

Adam Gregory

Tried to run an illegal adoption agency for homosexual, non binary couples

Paid a fine and on parole – forbidden from creating any LLC’s or Incorporating

Brian Welch

Pissed that I found evidence of his partner cheating but turned him in on charges of possession of child pornography

In jail for kiddy porn and for threatening my life

His husband got everything despite the infidelity

           You acquire quite detailed list of people who want to threaten your life on the daily, but then again, wasn’t it Audre Lorde who said “I’m deliberate and afraid of nothing?” I can’t be afraid. If I’m afraid, they have the power. They have the power to intimidate me, to run my life for me, to make my decisions. I will not back down because they got caught. But I will protect myself, I will keep my license for my gun up and go to the shooting range often. I will strengthen the locks and security of my apartment, and I will ask Jungkook to stay over more, or sleep at his.

           I will not back down, not when Lee Euna has paid me what seems like the cost of tuition at Princeton for a year and wants answers. We signed a contract, didn’t we?

           And who am I if my word is no longer worth anything?

           Instead of harping on the sickening feeling that I’m being watched 24/7, I run through my plans for bumping into Taehyung and his friends. In the weeks that I’ve continued to follow him, he’s solidified Wednesday’s as his night for dinner with friends, and Thursdays as his cultural exploration. He goes to museum openings, concerts, movies, plays, clubs, all on Thursdays. While those nights are fun for me to watch and put on my expense account, it’s Wednesdays that I adore. I love following him from his house to the restaurants and am excited each week to see what he and his friends have chosen.

          This week, it’s an authentic Mexican restaurant. Slipping my coat on, I give them a few minutes before following in.

           The sound of mariachi welcomes me into the yellow painted restaurant. The furniture, dark mahogany against the vibrant walls, is full of people. I note the variety of sombreros, the different colors and patterns, the meanings hidden within the stitchwork. It’s not a large restaurant, but big enough to fit a few large groups of 7-10 people, and plenty of space for smaller groups such as the three men. The hostess asks if I want to sit at the bar, and I request a table near the men. Sitting a few feet away, I’m able to pick up their conversation easily. Instead of jotting it down, I hit record and let the metaphorical tape play.

           “Oh, it wasn’t that bad!” The mystery man says.

           “It was awful, Taehyungie couldn’t stop laughing, every time he hit the ball it went flying in the wrong direction,” Jimin says.

           “I was trying so hard!” Taehyung laughed.

           “That’s the problem, you were trying too hard,” The man tells him. “You’re too pure of heart.”

           “I am not,” Taehyung shook his head.

           “I know, you’ve experienced a lot, Tae,” Jimin says.

           “Joon, here’s the question,” Taehyung says, and I’m momentarily distracted by the utterance of the name, Joon. “You get to pick next week, we heading back to that barbeque place?”

           Jimin erupts in another fit of laughter, Taehyung following suit. It’s cute, watching them interact. I wonder if Jungkook has friends he does things like this with… those nights we aren’t together, if he has friends to spend his time with.

           I wait until they’ve left to take a glance at the signed bill on their table, Taehyung Kim is scribbled, no evidence of the other men, and I’m about to bag evidence when I hear my name.

           “Y/N?” Taehyung asks.

           “Taehyung! That was you!” I smile.

           “Have you been here the whole time?” Taehyung’s eyebrows express more than anyone’s I’ve ever seen.

           “I, yeah. I wasn’t sure it was you and Jimin. I didn’t want to interrupt,” I tell him.

           “Oh, you could’ve! Don’t worry about them, we’ve been friends a long time,” Taehyung smiles, it’s boxy and wide, the edges curling as his eyes soften.

           I’ve already started my dance, a waltz to an even tempo and I’ve got the next five paces planned. “Who was that new guy?”

           “Why, you single?” Taehyung smirks, his lips no longer joyful but devious.

           “I just was curious,” I reply, “And no, I’m not single, remember?”

           “Oh yes, yes, Jungkook,” Taehyung recalls with a nod.

           “You, Jimin and that other guy, go way back?” I lead him, it’s easy to lead Taehyung, he’s pure of heart, the most honest intentions in his eyes.

           “Mm, yes,” He continues smiling at me.

           “Your dinner looked fun, I’ll definitely be coming back to this place,” I tell him. It’s true, maybe I will bring Jungkook by one night when I know these three men won’t be around.

           “Yeah, we like it. We try a new restaurant every week. It’s a fun no work zone,” His arms are relaxed at his sides, one hand slipping slowly into his pocket, his cardigan open and glasses pressed close to his ebony eyes.

           “I like that, no work zone,” I agree, I wish I had one of those.

           “Yes, it helps clear the mind,” Taehyung tells me.

           “Do the three of you work together?” I inquire.

           “Kind of, we have a lot of the same shared interests,” he sidesteps.

           I nod, the final step in our dance presenting itself. “Very cool, well I don’t want to keep you from Jimin and –

           “Joon, yeah, very considerate of you. Maybe I’ll see you at the dog park again?” He asks.

           “Oh god, I hope not, Maisie is a nightmare,” I laugh.

           “Well have a good night, Y/N, take care!” He says as he walks out the door. I stand, watching, pretending to not notice how he gets in the car swiftly, not looking back.

           Joon.

           Joon.

           Joon.

           What kind of a name is Joon? If Taehyung and Jimin, and Jungkook, and Seokjin… and Yoongi, are all Korean, must Joon be short for something Korean?

           Glancing at my phone, it’s only 8:30PM, if I hurry, I can get in another few hours of work before I’m overcome with exhaustion and anxiety. But what will I find?

Oh Joon

Kim Joon

Lee Joon

Joon-Ho

Joon-Hee

Joon-Hyuk

Joon-Ki

Joon-Tae

Joon-Young

Byung-Joon

Ha-Joon

Hee-Joon

Hyung-Joon

Jae-Joon

Kyung-Joon

Jae-Joon

Kyung-Joon

Yong-Joon

Nam-Joon

Joon-Su

Ye-Joon

           Not to mention add in the top 5 Korean last names, and I’ve got hundreds of possibilities. Luckily, I can run the name against the address of the apartment building Taehyung picked Joon up from. Being a PI means I have access to the state databases, which gives me names and addresses. In the building, there’s one Joon, a Namjoon, Kim Namjoon. I pull the information before digging into my search.

           Unlike the seemingly nonexistence of Min Yoongi, Kim Namjoon is present. Every search result yields a perfectly manicured article dating anywhere from the year of his birth to age sixteen, and then, much like everyone else on this case, the trail begins to run cold. Whatever happened to him during high school, still radiates through his file. Whether he’s shaken it or not, that’s the question.

           No known career or job at all, his status as a prodigy in math, linguistics and rhetoric is astonishing. One of the highest IQ’s of recent memory, he’d mastered calculus by the time he was 8, besting PhD’s by 13, and then in a blaze of glory, disappearing by 16. He was studied, written about, documented, photographed, and somehow managed to be nominated for a Nobel Prize… how he accomplished all of that during puberty is beyond me. Not only does he accomplish that, but then, disappears completely, without a trace. How?

I’m ready to pack it in when someone steps into my office.

           “I saw the light on,” She says.

           “Ms. Lee, what do I owe this surprise visit?” I ask. This is the exact opposite of what I wanted to do tonight.

           “I wanted to, to talk to you,” She takes a few steps forward, pausing to ask for unspoken permission.

           “Please, sit. What did you want to talk to me about?” I lean back, hoping she can’t see the bags forming under my eyes or the tears from the yawn I’m stifling.

           “I wanted to tell you about, about why I need you to find Min Yoongi,” Euna informs me. She’s dressed in what can only be described as winter white, and only as a cashmere sweatsuit. Never have I ever seen such glamor in my dingy office. I feel bad that she’s risking the integrity of her outfit by being here.

           “Oh, okay,” I sit up and reach for a notebook. “Do you want me to write this down?”

           “No, you don’t need to. We can just talk between women, between friends,” Euna’s voice is soft. The slack in her jaw, the demur manner in which her hands are placed on her lap, it’s evident she doesn’t know how to be girlfriends. Raised by her family, groomed to take over, friends was never a word in her vocabulary.

           “I wanted you to know that I really saw a future with Yoongi,” She starts. “You know that place in your heart where you hold all your hopes?”

           “Yes,” I say hesitantly.

           Her eyes narrow in warning, “Do you have someone, someone who’s beginning to fill that space?”

           “Um, yeah,” I reply.

           “I thought that’s what Yoongi was. I thought we were, we were building something. Jun-Seo had Jimin, they thought they were building an illustrious future together, but one day he disappeared too.” She pinches the slight bridge of her nose, inhaling slowly to steady her nerves. “I don’t know what changed in our relationship. Yoongi didn’t want me anymore, he didn’t want to be around me, or with me at all. A switch flipped, like one day he realized he didn’t love me in the first place. I don’t know what happened, I don’t know why, but when your entire future is destroyed, do you stand back and watch it burn?”

           “Do you want me to answer that?” I ask.

           “Sure, what I did after that was terrible, but it was within reason. Everything I did was within reason. I tried to hold onto him, I did what I thought was right to get him to stay and he just, ran. Bolted, broke up with me on the phone like I’m Taylor Swift in 2012. Maybe I am,” Euna rolls her eyes, the comparison both too true and too terrifying. “At least Seokjin had the kindness to break up with me in person. But Yoongi? The coward! He knew I loved him. He knew I would carry his child, would marry him, would love him eternally and then some. I would’ve done anything for him. Even after he refused to go family dinners or go on trips with Seo and Jimin, after he started lying and cheating and stealing. He broke my heart, shattered it. If anyone is to blame for what happened after our relationship, it’s him.”

           Interested peaked, I inquire “What happened?”

           “It’s in my document,” She snaps.

           “The handwritten one?” I clarify.

           Rolling her delicate ebony irises, “Yes, of course.”

           “The abortion, the embezzlement, insider trading?” I try to rattle off the accusations she’d detailed. Somewhere I had a list and had sorted them by man, but damn, there were a lot of them.

           “Yes,” She snips.

           “That’s all true?” I ask again. The look she gives me is unwarranted, this is the first time in months, nearly a year, that she has sat down with me and discussed the charges. I am well within my right as her Private Investigator to ask clarifying questions.

           “Do you make a conscious decision to not believe your clients? Am I not paying you enough Y/N?” Euna snaps.

           “I’m sorry,” I respond.

           “I should go, I expect next week at our meeting you will have an update on the mystery man,” She stands.

           “Yes, yes, I will,”

           “Good, oh, there was a note under your door. I didn’t pick it up,” She turns and walks, stepping gingerly over the note. Scrambling behind her, I pick up the folded paper, and scrawled in crystal clear letters it reads:

           Cricket, was driving past when I saw the light on. Why are you working? Come to mine when you’re done, it’s been three restless nights without you.

          XO – Bunny 

           Fuck me, I love him.

Next: Cricket & Bunny Pt. 1 

[hardcorehardigan]

[Cover: GREG WILLIAMS/AUGUST IMAGES]

Tom Hardy interview and exclusive David Bailey shot

Tom Hardy interview and exclusive David Bailey shot

By DANIELLE DE WOLFE

02 September 2015

ShortList meets the British actor who took on the Kray twins and won. Plus an exclusive image of the actor taken by the inimitable David Bailey.

Interviewing Tom Hardy is not like interviewing other film stars. From the moment he arrives – alone, dressed down in hiking trousers and black T-shirt, puffing away on a complex-looking digital e-cigarette – it is immediately clear this is not someone who will be exhibiting any kind of on-promotional-duties polish. He is very, very nice (I get a hug at the end of the interview), but there is unmistakably a wired edginess about him. When we sit down, it starts like this:

Me: I’m going to start with an obvious question, which is… Hardy: Have you seen the film? Me: Yes. I… Hardy: Right, well that’s the first question, then. The second one is, “What did you think?” I tell him I loved it, and why, and he is pleased (“That’s a f*cking result!”). When we move on to me asking him questions, his answers – again, in contrast to other film stars, with whom the game is to get them to veer slightly away from prepared, succinct monologues – are smart and eloquent, but long, drawn-out and enjoyably all over the place, veering off into tangents prompted by thoughts that have clearly just formulated. At the end of our allotted time, we are told to wind it up not once but twice, and even then he is still going, launching into theories about American versus British gangster films and life and humanity and such things (“Sorry man, I can talk for f*cking ever!” he laughs). He will be talking with a seriousness and sincerity (“All the risk was taken by [writer and director] Brian [Helgeland], to be fair…”), then will switch without warning into a piercing, mock-hysterical falsetto (“…letting me PLAY BOTH F*CKING ROLES, MAN!”).

In fact, briefly, while we’re on the subject of the way he speaks…

Tom Hardy’s normal speaking voice is not something we have been privy to onscreen. Since he delivered – whatever your opinion of it – the most imitated cinematic voice of the decade in The Dark Knight Rises, we haven’t come close. That thick Welsh accent in Locke, The Drop’s quiet Brooklyn drawl, the Russian twang in Child 44: we just never hear it. And this might be because it doesn’t exist. It’s five years ago, but if you watch his Jonathan Ross appearance in 2010, where he is very well spoken, he confesses he “sometimes picks up accents, and sometimes I don’t know how I’m going to sound until I start speaking”. If you then watch another video of a feature on GMTV, dated just a month previous, while addressing some young people from troubled backgrounds as part of his charity work with the Prince’s Trust, he is speaking to them in a south London street kid drawl. Today, in the flesh, he is about halfway between these two.

A natural-born chameleon.

Tom Hardy shot by David Bailey for ShortList

BEING DOUBLE

The role we are here to discuss today does not, by Tom Hardy’s own standards at least, involve a huge stretch accent-wise. But it is “the hardest thing that I’ve ever done, technically”. This is because, as mentioned, he plays not one role, but two. In the same film. You will likely have seen the posters for Legend by now, depicting Hardy as both of the Kray twins. Which seems an ambitious, almost foolhardy undertaking.

Hardy agrees. “It is one of them situations,” he says. “You get an actor to play two characters, and immediately, it’s pony. It’s gonna be rubbish. Just: no. It’s a bad idea.”

This particular “bad idea” came to him when he first met writer and director Brian Helgeland (who had previously written screenplays for – no biggie – LA Confidential and Mystic River) for dinner. Brian wanted Hardy to play Reggie (the hetero, alpha male, more-straight-down-the-line Kray). Hardy, though, had read the script, and of course, being Tom Hardy, was drawn to the more complex character. “I was like, ‘Well, I feel Ronnie,’” he says. “So which actor am I gonna give up Ronnie to, if I play Reggie? Errrrrggh…. I can’t have that. ’Cos that’s all the fun there! And Reggie’s so straight! But there was a moment when I could have come away just playing Reggie. We could have gone and found a superlative character actor to play Ronnie, and that would have been the best of everything."

But Helgeland sensed the dissatisfaction in his potential leading man. “I’m sitting there thinking, ‘Oh, he wants to play Ron,’” he tells me. “And the paraphrased version is that by the end of the dinner, I said, ‘I’ll give you Ron if you give me Reg.’”

And so began their quest to turn a risky, potentially disastrous idea into something special (as Brian puts it to me, “the movie’s either gone right or gone wrong before anyone even starts working on it”). Hardy found some comfort in Sam Rockwell’s two-interacting-characters performance in Moon. “I’m a big fan of Sam,” he says.

“And Moon gave me reason to go, ‘I know it’s possible to hustle with self, to create a genuine dialogue with self.’ So then it’s the technical minefield: can you authentically create two characters within a piece at all? So that the audience can look past that and engage in the film? It is what it is: it’s two characters played by the same actor. But I think we got to a point where people forget that and are genuinely watching the story."

This was the ‘why I liked the film’ reasoning I gave to him at the beginning of the interview. And it is a remarkable performance, or pair of performances, or triumph of technical direction. The opening shot features both Tom Hardy Krays sitting in the back of a car, and feels strange, but very quickly, within about 10 or 15 minutes, you settle into it, and forget that it is actually the same guy. This was made possible, in part, by Hardy’s stunt double from Mad Max: a New Zealander named Jacob Tomuri.

“He inherited the hardest job of my career,” Hardy grins. “I put on a pair of glasses, played every scene with Ron, then took ’em off and played Reg. And we went through every scene in the film, recording it on the iPhone. So he’s got every scene of me doing both characters, on his iPhone. He actually played both brothers, had to learn all of the lines. He was paying attention twice as hard to keep up. But he superseded that, and was eventually ad-libbing. There’s a line that ended up in the film, where Ronnie goes, ‘I bent him up like a pretzel, I hurt him really f*cking badly.’” “Where did that come from?!” Hardy shrieks, in that falsetto again. “It came from New Zealand."

The wife’s tale

The other big potential pitfall, as Hardy sees it, was contributing to the ongoing glamorisation and eulogising of two brothers who were, to say the least, not very nice. Somehow they have become almost as iconic a piece of the Sixties puzzle as the Beatles or the Stones. But this was not something that Legend would be setting out to reinforce. “One has to approach these things thinking about the families of the victims who were involved in the other end of it,” he says. “Before you find the heart to like somebody, you’ve gotta look at their track record as best as possible: the people who’ve been hurt, the bodies, the suffering, people who were bullied, who lived in terror, who lost significant parts of their lives in the wake of these two men. There’s a lot of sh*t to wade through. And a lot of people who do not, quite rightly, want to see anything to do with these two men. And if I were them, I wouldn’t want to be involved myself, but there’s also part of me that wants to know. That wants to get under the skin.”

So how do you go about doing that? About humanising, to any extent, such people?

“I think the first port of call is, ‘Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to do and say whatever you wanted to do and say in the world, regardless of the ramifications and the consequences?’ Ultimately, when I – we – go to the cinema or read a book or we go to escape, we respond to certain types of characters that go, ‘F*ck it: I’m gonna do whatever I want.'

And that’s because we can’t. Because most people would feel a responsibility.”

The answer to how Legend would do this came in the shape of a person who did feel some responsibility, namely Frances Shea: the troubled wife of Reggie, who died in 1967. Played by Emily Browning, she became the centre of the film when Helgeland met Krays associate Chris Lambrianou, who told him that “Frances was the reason we all went to prison”.

“We could have put more of the carnage and the crimes in that film,” says Hardy. “Not to say that it is not there, but what you do see, really, is Reggie, Ronnie and Frances. That’s the dynamic we focused on, that space, which hasn’t been seen before. What was that dynamic like? I don’t know if we came anywhere near the truth, because we weren’t there. But that was the playing field, if you like: Frances Shea, future ahead of her, caught up in something, and no one with her, the suicide. That sits with me in a way as the lead. She’s who we forgot. Ronnie, Reggie, they’ve done their bit. Frances was forgotten. And that kind of all ties it together for me."

FUTURE LEGENDS

The initial praise for Legend has been plentiful, but the mindset of Tom Hardy right now is such that he does not have the time to bask in it. There are other quite ludicrously challenging projects to be pressing ahead with. Coming in autumn is The Revenant, starring his good friend Leonardo DiCaprio and directed by Alejandro González Iñárritu of Birdman fame. Its trailer, as well as doing the not-going-anywhere trend for big beards no harm whatsoever, suggests that it will also match Mad Max in terms of an unrelenting barrage of intensity. Further into the future there’s the Elton John biopic Rocketman (initial challenge? Hardy “can’t sing”) and another foray into comic-book adaptation with 100 Bullets (news of which broke just after our interview).

And right now, as in this week, he’s working on a BBC series called Taboo, which is set in 1813 and stars Hardy as an adventurer who comes back from Africa and builds a shipping empire. The story has been developed by his production company Hardy Son & Baker (formed with his father, Chips) and has been written and directed by Locke/Peaky Blinders creator Steven Knight, with Ridley Scott also exec producing.

“We’re sat on something really awesome,” says Hardy. “And it’s trying to piece it together. I’ve never produced anything before, so I basically don’t know what I’m doing. But I’ve got some options and solutions: if you say something is not working, you better come up with at least four other options. But it’s good. It’s just different.”

Another day, another big challenge. Another chance to do something different. It isn’t an easy life being Tom Hardy. But neither will it ever a boring one, and that’s good news for us.

Legend is at cinemas from 9 September

Words: Hamish MacBain. Images: David Bailey, Studio Canal

You can also read the Hardy interview in this week's ShortList Magazine. It'd be a crime to miss it.

Source: https://www.shortlist.com/news/tom-hardy-interview-and-exclusive-david-bailey-shot

[longitud-de-onda]

I think 27 from your first set of dialogue prompts would be cute for Javi or Whiskey 😍 congrats on your followers, you deserve all of them and more!

i’ve decided to just go ahead and tag my taglist (below the cut) for drabbles too, let me know if you don’t want to be tagged in these and i won’t tag you in them, i really don’t mind at all if not. 

character; jack daniels | agent whiskey

prompt; “i just remembered something.” “what?” “i never actually asked you out on a date.”

warnings; just some sickeningly soft fluff :)

You’re lying on the couch in Jack’s house, breathing in the fresh country air wafting through the open windows. He’s lying on the other wing of the L-shaped cushions, his head in your lap as you run your fingers through his soft hair. It’s not usually like this. Too often are one of you out on a mission, halfway across the world from one another, sparing quick moments over Skype.

But it’s days like this in his farmhouse that make it all worth it.

There’s music playing from an old cassette player on the coffee table and you could almost fall asleep right here. Jack is humming along softly and even though he can’t hit half the notes it’s the most beautiful thing you’ve heard.

You had gotten a call from him this morning saying that he’d was coming back a day early from his mission and you should meet him at his place. He’d drawn you into his arms and kissed you and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear before telling you all about the events of the past couple days as he made lunch and you ate before collapsing onto the couch. As the conversation died out the two of you just laid there together.

“I just remembered something,” Jack says, breaking the peaceful quiet.  “What?”

“I never actually asked you out on a date,” he says. You can hear the smile in his voice before you even look down at his face.

You hand stills, lazily tangled in his hair as you try to remember something to prove him wrong. He must have asked you out on a date at some point. But as you run through all your memories, you can’t think of a single moment when Jack asked you out.

You met him years ago when you joined Statesmen and your first kiss was undercover on a mission, and he had walked up to you at a bar to pull you away from a man who was getting too handsy and suddenly you were kissing him. Months of tension between you had fallen away as you ended up occupying only one of the two beds in the hotel room that night.

There hadn’t been time for dates. You had just fallen into step with each other, meeting each other at the Statesmen bar and bringing each other lunch during long days of desk work. Long calls at night when you were out of town, desperately clinging to every syllable of his drawl. You had quietly shifted your lives to include your little apartment and his house, bits of your clothes migrating to one another’s. He would spend the night at yours when late days of work meant the shorter drive would guarantee a few precious minutes of sleep, and you would sleep at his whenever the rare days you had a few days to take things slow occurred. Over the past few months you had begun talking more about cutting down hours, or requesting shorter missions and had been making more efforts to spend more time at Jacks, having not just fallen in love with him, but his sprawling home and property. The quiet of having left the city. The evenings reading out on the porch.

And for all the words exchanged between you, Jack never asked you out.

“I guess you haven’t,” you chuckle, smiling down at him.

“I feel like a right idiot now,” he says.

“Baby, you didn’t need to ask me out,” you say, leaning down to peck him on the lips. “It worked out just fine.”

“Still,” he says, “I would like to invite you out to dinner tonight, darlin’, if you’d like?”

“Of course, Jack,” you smile.

“Guess it’s a date then,” he says, eyes shutting as he keeps smiling. You resume your light caresses through his hair, which you know lull him to sleep. You feel your eyes growing heavy as you drift off for an afternoon nap.

taglists; (let me know if you want to be added, removed, or moved around)

perm taglist; @turquiosenights @el-lizzie @sparrows-books @dxxkxx @opheliaelysia @trashbin2 @rzrcrst @arcadianempress @stevieharrrr @peterparkers-tingle @blushingwueen @coredrive @lokiaddicted @mserynlarsen @badassbaker @1-800-fandomtrashqueen @flower-petal-blooming @talesfromtheguild @eupphoriaaa @weirdowithnobeardo @gaybroadwayloser @randomness501 @adikaofmandalore @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @poesdxmerons @bountyguild @sinnamon-bunn @readsalot73 @gooddaykate @rage-isaquietthing @womanontheedgeofnothing @coffeencontemplation @hiscyarika @mrsparknuts

pedro taglist; @pascalisthepunkest @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @souls-rain @twomoonstwosuns @sophiasescape

[paths-of-my-childhood-candid]

Lover Conquers All

By: Mark Sutherland for Music Week Date: November 4th 2019 issue (published online on December 13th 2019)

She’s the world’s biggest pop star, but despite her global success, Taylor Swift is also the music industry’s greatest advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights. And, with a ground-breaking new record deal and a bold new album, Lover, she’s not about to stop now. Music Week meets her to talk music and business...

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast. Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time - helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover - reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

“It always was and it always will be an interesting dance being a young woman in the music industry,” she smiles ruefully. “We don’t have a lot of female executives, we’re working on getting more female engineers and producers but, while we are such a drastic gender minority, it’s interesting to try and figure out how to be.”

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

“I was planning the release of my first album when I was 15 years old,” she reminisces. “And I was a fully gangly 15, I reminded everyone of their niece! I was in this industry in Nashville and country music, where I was making album marketing calls, but I never wanted to stand up and say, ‘Yeah, that promotions plan you just complimented my label on, I thought of that! Me and my Mom thought of that!’

“When you’re a new artist you wonder how much space you can take up and, as a woman, you wonder how much space you can take up pretty much your whole period of growing up,” she continues. “For me, growing up and knowing that I was an adult was realising that I was allowed to take up space from a marketing perspective, from a business perspective, from an opinionated perspective. And that feels a lot better than constantly trying to wonder if I’m allowed to be here.”

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now - having belatedly embraced the format with Lover - streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

But her influence on music and the music industry doesn’t end there. Because, over the years, Swift has also become a leading advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights, in a digital landscape that doesn’t always have such matters as a priority.

In 2015, she stood up to Apple Music over its plans to not pay artist royalties during subscribers’ three-month free trials (Apple backed down immediately). She pulled her entire catalogue from Spotify in 2014 in protest that its free tier was devaluing music, sending Daniel Ek scrambling to justify his business model. When she returned in 2017, it was a crucial fillip for the streaming service’s IPO plans.

More recently, her ground-breaking new record deal with Republic Records contained clauses not only guaranteeing her ownership of her future masters, but also ensuring Universal Music will share the spoils of its Spotify shares with its artists, without any payments counting against unrecouped balances. And when her long-time former label boss Scott Borchetta sold Big Machine to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, taking Swift’s first six albums with him, the star publicly called out what she saw as her “worst-case scenario” and stressed: “You deserve to own the art you make”. She may yet re-record her old songs in protest.

In short, Swift has, for a long time now, been unafraid to use her voice on industry matters, whether they pertain to her own stellar career or the thousands of other artists out there struggling to make a living.

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon - she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats - one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity - and ready to talk business.

And for Swift, business is good. The impact of her joining streaming, and the decline of traditional album sales, may have prevented her from posting a fifth successive one million-plus sales debut, but Lover still sold more US copies (867,000) in its first week than any record since her own Reputation. It’s sold 117,513 copies to date in the UK, according to the Official Charts Company.

Even better, while Reputation - a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West - was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Aiwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

It contains more than its fair share of pop bangers (You Need To Calm Down, Me!), but also some gorgeously-crafted acoustic tracks (Lover, Cornelia Street), some pithy political commentary (The Man, Miss America & The Heartbreak Prince) and the sort of musical diversions (Paper Rings’ irresistible rockabilly stomp, the childlike oddity of It’s Nice To Have A Friend) that no other pop superstar would have the sheer musical chops to attempt, let alone pull off.

“Taylor’s creative instincts as an artist and songwriter are brilliant,” says Monte Lipman, founder and CEO of Swift’s US label, Republic. “Our partnership represents a strategic alliance built on mutual respect, trust, and complete transparency. Her vision is extraordinary as she sets the tone for every campaign and initiative.”

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here - she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover - from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

And today, Swift is keen to concentrate on the present and future. She has a starring role in Cats coming up (and a new song on the soundtrack, Beautiful Ghosts, co-written with Andrew Lloyd Webber) and, after a spectacularly intimate Paris launch show in September, festival dates and her own LoverFest to plan (UK shows will be revealed soon). Time, then, to tell the cats to calm down and sit down with Music Week to talk streaming, contracts and why she’s “obsessed” with the music industry...

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music... Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have? It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time? Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now? I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal? That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums? In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ - there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future? I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect? Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age... Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest? Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out? That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!

[popculturebuffet]

Mickey and the Roadster Racers: “Mickey’s Perfecto Day” and “Daisy’s Grande Goal” review or “I think i’m going out of my headcold”

Saludos Amigos!  I”ve been sick, and as such have had no energy or state of mind to continue my look at every apperance of the CABs in the us, concluding with a look at every episode of legend of the three caballeros. 

And today’s stop is one i’m only passingly familiar with: Mickey and the Roadster Racers. MATRR.. wait really that’s what it spells?

No Larry the Cable guy on this blog thank you.  Anyways, Roadster Racers is surprisingly complicated for such a simple show. For starters it’s the successor to “Mickey Mouse’s Club House” another CGI Disney Junior show, Disney’s equivalent to Nick Jr because their clever like that. And to continue the theme of ripping off other properties, the show was Disney’s stab at following the big fake interactivity craze started by Dora the Explorer. And it’s annoying as that sounds with a lot of pasues and an annoying recurring hot dog song that’s obnoxiously catchy. It was mostly just slice of life shenanigans with the mickey mouse crew and when retoolling it they decided to drop the now dated fake interactivity, turn up the slice of life and add some of those nitro burning funny cars vroom vroom. IN a sense genral g rated soft boiled mickey shenanigans with a racing theme. 

Not a terrible series but not terribly intresting hence why i’ve never covered it. It’s a bland inoffesnsive cartoon for toddlers. Enough effort is put in for me not to hate it, as even a toddler show can have effort, but not enoguh so that I really care. I’ve seen better, i’ve seen worse. The only intresting things are the racing gimmick and the fact that as said gimmick diminished they switched names to “Mickey’s mixed up adventures” in season 3. Hence the complicated part as it’s not counted as it’s own series but unlike other disney title changes they aren’t just slapping another label under the logo like the marvel shows. This is  a full on retool. But it still has the same cast and prodcution crew and is counted as part of mickey mouse. Point is it’s weird and not relevant since our boys didn’t show up in that season. Oh and as a final note I learned while writing this/ there’s a THIRD Mickey Mouse Disney Junior Series, Mickey Mouse Funhouse, coming next year. 

But with so little to cover I ended up throwing in a freebie. See normally I charge the same for 11 minute and 20+ minute shows. It’s fair as most 11 minute shows these days pack in as much character as the ones that use the full half hour. It’s just a diffrence in tactics is all. But here I felt obligated to do at LEAST two diffrent, but cabs related, 11 minutes here, so if I had nothing to talk about I could pad it out and If I had everyhting to talk about.. eh I still tried to do the right thing. I regret nothing. But yeah i’m sick, this series is eh, let’s gooooo. 

Mickey’s Perfecto Day So Mickey and Friends are preparing to drive to spain.

No i’m not making a joke. Wish I was would be one of my best but no, Mickey and Friends are just.. casually going to drive to Spain. To explain why this hurts my head a map, on which i’ve drawn the route they’d have to take to get to spain from, let’s say Calisota, the fictional state where Mouseton, Duckburg, New Quackmore, and thus probably Hot Dog Hills, the show’s setting, reside. 

This is a crue map, they oculd’ve gone down through mexico or central america.. but the point is THEY DROVE ACROSS THE OCEAN. And I genuinely do not know if their cars can do that but apparently they can. So either the writer didn’t know where Spain was or didn’t care and either way it’s bad. LIke at least give their cars a plane or boat mode. Go full DKR up in this bitch, give em diffrent racing vehicles. But it wouldn’t be as aggrivvating or bizzare if they MENTIONED how they were driving to spain, like maybe Donald’s car that’s also an old boat and goofy’s that’s a tub have aquamodes and can tow the rest. I get 5 year olds don’t care about this.. but still? I guess? Also MIckey is either the sorcerer supreme or jesus at this point. He can cross oceans by car, astral project, cross into other dimensions.. the only thing missing is raising the dead and  he already did that in the 30′s. 

So as for why the sorcerer supreme and his buddies are going all the way to Spain, Donald has a concert with the three caballeros and this time they all remember him as a memmber and Daisy’s a huge fan. Which is sweet. Then we hear donald duck talk and...

Yeah, Daniel Ross is not the best Donald. Now I will cut the guy some slack here: He’s a voice actor more known for doing bit parts who just got the role in 2016, since racers aired in 2017 and animation lead time and all that. He’s not going to be nearly as good as Tony or Clarence out of the gate. Even Tony wasn’t. He also had a valid reason for picking up the role as Tony likely had two series in production at that time, Rise of the Three Cablleros and Ducktales, and thus had to split his time between both. And having Chris Diamaptolus do mickey in the new shorts instead of his usual voice actor Bret Iwane despite Iwane not being in any serious danger of dying soon has worked out super. So having multiple actors isn’t the problem. Hell after the tragic loss of Russi taylor and with how bad the world is, having an understudy in mind for such an important role is a grim but understandable necicisty. While I belivie tony can go on for decades, he’s only human. 

So my issue is not on Donald’s voice being diffrent or new.. it’s that it’s not very good and the second episode featuerd here shows Daniel Ross really hasn’t improved despite now having worked as the character for a while.I can forgive taking some time to grow in but being this sloppy after a full season is just unacceptable. He’s BETTER but he’s still just not very good and doing the bear minimum. I don’t doubt he’s a good va in other rolls, I don’t want to hate on the guy, but I can hate on aperfomance when it’s bad and it’s not good here. It’s just not. Not in either episode not in any way shape or form. It just feels like a lazy donald duck impression. Disney can do better and Ross can hopefully find better work in the future. But for now this just hangs like a wet fart on his resume. 

Moving on, thankfully, we have our three stories split pretty evenly and all stock plots. “Horay”.  Mickey and Minnie: Mickey tries to have a “perfecto” day, hence the title with Minnie, but instead gives her a rose a baby bull likes.. or maybe it’s SUPPOSED to be full grown but while Mickey and Minnie treat him like a grown bull and react to him like one.. the boy dosen’t look at all, even in the series style, like an adult bull. he looks like a calf. Mickey.. is initimdated by a small child whose horns aren’t sharp enough to hurt him. 

It’s just REALLY distracting and takes me out of the plot which itself is as bland as plain toast and twice as dry. They flee him till the end where Minnie figures out the rose thing at the concert and they make an ew friend. NOt TERRIBLE but not great.  Goofy and Cuckoo Loca: Okay first off who and what is a cuckoo loca? Well she’s a wind up bird that lives in Daisy’s Cuckoo Clock and makes sarcastic comments in a brooklyn accent because nikka futtterman voices her. Still makes more sense than driving to spain. She’s not a bad addition to the cast.. not even that weird as most kids based franchises have an adorable animal sidekick to market. Goofy wants to try some “flamingo dancing” while in spain, with Loca going along to make sure he dosen’t die somehow.. which would be unjustifable for anyone but goofy. Also.. Flamingo Dancing...

But yeah Goofy goes up against ... world famous flamingo dancer horace horsecollar?!

Now apparently this is a common thing for him in this series, apparently, but still it feels like if one of those weird variant ninja turtle figures from the 80′s was a plot point in an episode. Like if we actually had an episode based around birthday magician raph. 

It feels just as odd and out of place for down to earth if showy horace to suddenly be the best flaminco dancer in spain, despite being very much white coded, as it does for the angriest ninja turtle to be pulling a rabbit out of kids hats. Now Rise of the TMNT raph I could totally see as a party magician but any other? He’d probably break his wand over some kids head. 

Goofy ends up winning anyway because he’s stupid, though Flamingo dancing should be a real thing even if this joke is bad and it shoudl feel bad. What an ODD subplot Okay one more then i’m free of this prison. 

The Three Cablleros Plus Daisy:  Okay finally we get to what I came here for. The Three Caballeros! And..they look a tad off. Not terrible but clearly the animators weren’t as skilled with non duck beaks as both of them look ready to do this to donald. 

While Panchito’s color varies. Sometime’s it’s a deep brownish crimson, sometimes it’s poop brown and there’s no classy way to put it. When he’s in this cheap cgi, he looks like a shit chicken. This gets to a larger issue though... the animation here is not great. It’s not TERRIBLE.. but it’s pretty freaking sub par for disney. And i’ve SEEN their other cgi shows around the same time due to having a young niece and nephew. Sherieff Callie, Doc McStuffins, MIles from Tommorowland, and after this T.O.T.S. and Rocketeer. I’m not saying these are masterpieces of the genre, but they have more effort in botht he animation and writing put in. Here it just feels like they do the bear minimum which feels really fucking wrong. These chracters deserve better and have thankfully gotten better. YOu can make a show for preschoolers that’s cutsey and harmless and still have it at least be creative god dammit. It’s why I don’t like covering this show. It just feels so.. lifeless. They try a bit here and there but outside of cuckoo, there’s nothing really new or intresting to really make kids love these characters and it bothers me. it bothers me a lot. 

Moving on thank god, the plot is bare bones as is the boys characterization. So far at least their character has been pretty consitent across all mediums. i’ts something I haven’t really touched on but their seen as world traveler’, Panchito being a Gaucho and Jose being such a ladies man this will probably happen to him eventually. 

I swear to god that was the only part of this movie I can remember. I’m  better off that way. But yeah without Panchito’s pep or Jose’s smooth talking ways, there’s just nothing for disney junior to work with so their just.. friends to donald who are nice to daisy. Which is very nice to see, but isn’t very intresting or gives me a lot to talk about. Donald eats a food that’s too hot, continues to talk poorly, and Daisy has to fill in. He gets back in at time and they sing probably the most forgetable cabs song yet. It’s.. not much honestly.  This was worth covering for completions sake but it dosen’t really add much. If nothing else it at least made me realize so far each mile of the ride has added something fresh to the characters: The original was the foundation, rosa gave them depth and made them feel like real people, and house of mouse made them feel like a big deal to other characters and made donald’s history as a cabllero part of his legacy as it should be. Each one so far has felt like it added.. this one just made me realize that and that is all. It builds on nothing adds nothing and there’s really nothing here other than MAYBE the brown/crimson design for panchito that carries over from the looks of it. The next two versions build on what rosa, the movie and to a lesser extent the house of mouse built. This one adds nothing. This plot is just.. inconqueintal. not bad for kids to know about them but even then it feels like a disapointing introduction. I fondly remember hte cabs episodes of house of mouse and even on rewatch they mostly held up despite some weak parts. This .. this will just be forgotten and I only hope legend and ducktales have done a better job keeping my boys alive in kids minds. God i’m depressed. Well at least this is over right.. right? 

Daisy’s Grande Goal

Okay as I said I was doing two, and rather than do this episode’s paired episode I decided on Season 2′s “Supercharged: Daisy’s Grande Goal”.. and cut the supercharged out of the title for the most part because why would you put the sutitle in your actual title. And only in some episodes. But yeah this season had a new gimmick, SUPERCHARGING... which basically means our heroes roadsters can go into super sayian tron super sayian mode and go real fast. They look real nice though and it has it’s own neat theme tune so there’s that. Otherwise the only other change is the animation which improves greatly. Seriously look at that shot above. That’s quality lin line with the ohter disney juinor shows. It’s still not as CREATIVE, but it’s not as slipshod as it started and I have to give them credit on that. 

So our heroes are in Brazil.. and as far as I can tell they drove there again.. but the diffrence is 1) you can actually DRIVE to brazil and 2) they have super fast super cars now, meaning even if the super charge mode has a timer, it can help with the commute. It’s also one of the boys actual home countries this time. I mean the episode isn’t built around the cabs.. but neither was the last one. Seriously I almost missed that: it’s three unrleated plots and really you could’ve just lenethed the bull and goofy plots a bit and left donald and daisy out. If your not going to use the cabs right hten don’t use them at all. Here though their used BETTER.. still not in the lead unforunately but at least them being on the brazilian soccer team makes sense as jose is from brazil and while panchito is it he’s his best friend, sometimes lover and always there when he needs him. So spending some time in brazil to play soccer/football isn’t a stretch. But that’s about it for their involvment: they say a few lines, are part of the brazilian team our heroes face, and we get Not-Donald saying “No Way Jose”.,,,

Sadly I can’t leave but the main plot is about Daisy’s Cousnt Almonda. She was in the previous episode which I did not watch but I do like both there being a valid reason why our heroes are here, and connection between episodes. While this season isn’t MUCH better.. it’s still better by some metric.  The plot is very basic: Almonda always wins at soccer ever since she and Daisy were kids, and it’s your basic “hero gets overcompetitive to finally win plot and learns to just have fun and to use teamwork heart of the cards and all that” It goes how you’d expect with Daisy hogging the ball and causing disasters and then a ten car pileup before cucoo yells at her, she realizes she was bad and also realizes Almonda had to practice hard to beat her, and ends up beating her through teamwork and you get it. IT’s not much But yeah ten car pile up.. that’s where it is intresting and rediculous as their playing soccer with cars. Which given i’ve always been an advocate for card games on motor cycles, seriously it’s not more rediculous than Yugioh was before that: in the anime and manga before 5ds we had table hockey but the puck is ice with nitrocylcrine in it, a battle with an escaped convict involving vodka and only using one finger, a chinese puzzel box that devoured souls, a dueling monkey, a whole hogwarts style school for dueling, duel spirits, our heroes childhood creations coming to life to help him, our hero merging with his androgynous childhood friend to fight the light of all evils, and on top of all of that, kaiba building a giant murder theme park soley to kill yugi and, even with how rich is he is, not even going to prison for the two months he’d get for that. My point is Yugioh is fricking weird and I love it so and card games on mortocyles is awesome.  Soccer with cars is alright. The teams are mickey, minnie, daisy and donald, for the US and Almonda, Jose, Panchito and.. Pancho Pete for the Brazilian team. Pete’s cousin. He apparenlty has a lot of em. Eh as long as we don’t get petkeem the african dream we’re fine. 

Why why did I make this. Why. But yeah it’s fine, not the best action ever adn the supercharge segments as I said look nice but as I also said ther’es just not a lot here. Daisy’s cousin is intresting, but likely more in the other segment. Here she’s more of a plot device to make daisy into an asshole for the episode so the plot can happen. There’s just not a lot to talk about> Hence me doing two of these. I will say it’s a better episode than the other one: it felt like more actually happened, it was more cohesive, had way more enerjgy and it had billy beagle... the series resident overexcited and loveable announcer voiced by the far from loveable jay leno of stealing conan’s job he gave him and last man standing, for some reason, fame. 

Overall these episodes are.. eh. The first one is kind of a mess, the second one is slightly better but these clearly werne’t meant for adults, let alone older kids and it shows. But I found some material here and made a horrifying combination of a terrible racist wwe gimmick and pete so.. I win/ I guess. I dunno, until next time, goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. 

[carmichealroyals]

THE PRINCESS AND THE PHOTOGRAPHER: HRH PRINCESS DIANA AND NICO TABOR SIT DOWN FOR FIRST INTERVIEW AS AN ENGAGED COUPLE

This morning, BCOW (Broadcasting Corporation of Windenburg)’s royal correspondent Monica Tennet sat down with HRH Princess Diana and her fiance Mr. Nico Tabor in an exclusive interview arranged by the palace. The interview, which took place in the Sapphire Reception Room of the Windenburg Palace, went through not only details of the proposal, but also covered the media whirlwind around the pair and its effect on their relationship. 

MT: ...thank you, Daniel. We come to you now live from the Windenburg Palace, where I have the absolute pleasure of being joined by Her Royal Highness Princess Diana and Mr. Nico Tabor, who just yesterday were confirmed to be engaged. Thank you both for joining me. 

PD: It’s our pleasure, Monica. 

MT: So, we all know the story of how you two met, but I’d like to officially hear it from the two in the relationship, just to catch people up to speed. 

NT: Well, I had been contacted by Rebecca Bels about a cover shoot for Metro’s Winter issue. I didn’t think anything of it except for the fact that she asked if I could come into the main office to go over the client and specific things that would be required of me. Usually we just do the shoot in studio... I have a set of rules I’m required to follow, of course, but new rules were my first tip-off that something was wrong. I was told the next day when I went in that I was going to be photographing the Princess Diana, and that she wanted to show a side of herself that, and I’m quoting directly here, “wasn’t what had been seen of her before”. 

PD: The interview and cover shoot were Maxwell’s idea. He thought that as the youngest of us all, I was the most approachable and personable, so he asked me to do it so that what we do would be seen as keeping up with the times. I agreed, of course, but I made sure to tell him I was doing it on my own terms -- if he wanted the authentic me, he was going to get it. I went to Nico’s home studio the next day. Rebecca was there, so it was all very professional, but during our lunch break Nico and I got to chatting and hit it off. The rest is history. 

MT: Let’s talk about the proposal. Nico, had it been in the works for a while? 

NT: For about two months before the vacation. Luke (the Duke of Daven) had told me he, Elsa and Diana were going to be going to Sulani after Winterfest, and when I told him I was scheduled to be in Mua Pe’lam on a location scout around the same time, it felt like the universe telling me what the next step I had to take was. Metro has a good relationship with Samuel Rhodes (the designer of the ring), so I called in a favor or two and got a consultation with him, which Luke was also a part of as he was bringing the central piece of the ring. 

MT: Your Royal Highness, did you have any idea it was going to happen? 

PD: No. We had talked briefly about marriage, but I think we’ve known since that first date that we were meant to be in it for the long haul. We were both so drawn to each other from the start that the idea of being together for life felt like a no-brainer, but I hadn’t expected a proposal while we were still in Sulani. 

MT: Can you tell us exactly how it happened?

PD: All of us had been at a nearby beach that morning -- the morning before we were scheduled to leave so Elsa and Luke could finish up their term of university. The baby turtles were hatching, so we zipped over to check it out, but when Elsa and Luke went to go back to the house, Nico told me about the waterfall and asked if I wanted to go check it out. We splashed around for a little bit, found a frog or two, and then out of nowhere, he’s down on one knee with the most gorgeous ring I’ve ever seen.

NT: It wasn’t an easy surprise to pull off, but what was harder was keeping it a secret. We didn’t want to steal the thunder from Luke and Elsa, so we never intended for those pictures to leak, but when they did... well, we didn’t want to have to pretend. 

PD: Our whole relationship, we’ve been dealing with prying eyes. I guess that’s what you get for being royalty, but it felt like there was more scrutiny on me than Luke because I’m a woman and a princess and certain things are expected of me. Max knows, it was never my intention to start as big of an argument as the one that happened, and we definitely never wanted anyone to pick sides. When we came back, though, and Max showed up.... he looked so guilty. He was clearly remorseful of his actions, and he deserved to be forgiven. We never really fought, not even as kids, so this was big for all of us. 

NT: Working in journalism, I see tabloids splashing rumours all the time, but when they’re about you, it’s so much different. It affects you so much more because your very character is being called into question. We’ve come out the other side much stronger for it, but you can trust that in the future we will be making sure disreputable news sources are put in their place. Neither of us have any time for smear tactics, especially when their information is based on lies and assumptions. 

MT: Thank you both for being so honest. Now, when it comes to the wedding, what can you tell us? Have any plans been made already? 

PD: Well, Lily is going to be my maid of honor. She’s my sister, she’ll never get another chance... but also because she is truly my best friend, besides Elsa, but she’s got another young sister of her own and has told me she wants a break from the wedding spotlight for a bit. (*chuckles*) It will be in early fall, so it isn’t bitterly cold, but we’re still working on location. I fell in love with St. Sebastian’s at Luke’s wedding, but we would definitely do an indoor reception. I don’t want to go out on our honeymoon with a cold. 

NT: A lot of things are still being worked out and finalized, so we’ll share more information once we’re ready. For now, we’re just excited to be ourselves in public and not fell like we have anything to hide. I know it’s going to be stressful and we’re going to be so tired at the end of it, but as long as I have Diana to spend my life with at the end of it, I wouldn’t have it any other way. 

MT: That is very sweet of you, Mr. Tabor. Thank you both for joining us once again, and we look forward to finding out more details about your wedding once they’re shared. Back to you, Daniel.

[freddiesaysalright]

Soft in Love Part 2

A Gwilym Lee x Student!Reader Fic

Summary: Y/N is an acting student in her last semester of college. When a professor unexpectedly can’t make it for the senior capstone class, a very famous (and handsome) substitute is called in. When they connect, they face a few challenges.

Word Count: 2.7k

Tag List:  @psychosupernatural​, @someone-get-a-medic​, @bensrhapsody​, @deakyclicks​, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession​, @minigranger​, @crazyweirdocalledfriday​, @benders-diamond-earring​, @im-an-adult-ish​, @anincurablefangirl​, @kiainspace​, @lookuptotheskiesandsee​ If you’d like to be added, let me know!

A/N: Hope you all enjoy this next part! Sorry it’s taken a little longer than usual, I’ve been pretty busy at work.

Warning(s): None! Well, more pining, but hey, y’all asked for this.

Part 1

Part 2 here we go!!!

That night, you went to Sloan’s for pizza and a movie. Since you lived on campus as part of your scholarship, you tended to hang out at Sloan and Andrew’s apartment once classes were over and homework was done. You had a room to yourself, but it wasn’t spacious, so the three of you normally were at their shabby, typical New York apartment with little space and even less furniture.

“So, what should we watch?” you wondered as you plopped down on the couch.

“How about Bohemian Rhapsody?” Sloan suggested, wiggling her eyebrows at you. “Y’know, so you can really see Gwilym in action?”

Andrew groaned. “Come on, Sloan, we’ve teased her enough.”

“What?” she shot back. “They were really connecting.”

“Connecting?” you questioned. “We barely said two words to each other.”

You had neglected to tell them about running into your substitute in the library. You were keeping that moment to yourself. It felt like something private, even though it was perfectly innocent. You wanted to keep it in your heart. For now, at least.

“All that eye contact,” Sloan continued. “It was like Edward and Bella in there.”

“If it was like Edward and Bella, he’s more likely to murder me than anything,” you retorted. 

“Edward doesn’t kill Bella!” she argued.

“He turns her into a vampire!” Andrew pointed out. “That’s the same thing!”

“No it isn’t!” 

“Yes it is!”

“Okay, Jacob!”

“Guys!” you interjected. “If we talk anymore about Twilight, I’m going to kill myself. Let’s just pick a movie.”

“I still vote for Bohemian Rhapsody,” Sloan said. “Y/N should see at least one thing our new professor is in.”

“I think we should watch a classic,” Andrew replied. “I haven’t watched Casablanca in a while.”

“One vote for Bohemian Rhapsody, one vote for Casablanca,” she said, then looked at you. “Would you like to cast a vote, or add a contender?”

You thought for a moment, but you already knew what you were going to pick. You just wanted to give Andrew the illusion of having a chance. You tapped your chin with your forefinger.

“I’m gonna go with…” you paused. “Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Oh, come on!” Andrew mock complained. Then he smiled. “Alright, I’m gonna order the pizza.”

“We’ll start the movie,” Sloan assured him.

As she picked up the remote, you considered telling her about the library. You weren’t sure why Sloan should be allowed this information and not Andrew, but you’d noticed he had sort of drifted from you while you were dating Daniel. Now that you and Daniel were broken up, Andrew was friendlier than before even. It made you a little confused. And the distance really hurt you.

But you looked at Sloan and thought about what she had said so far. You didn’t think she would tease you about the library, but she also would likely turn it into something it wasn’t. She had a tendency to gas you up for things that were hardly ever a big deal in reality. So you decided not to tell her. The moment would remain just yours. And Gwilym’s, of course.

The movie began, with the pizza arriving about half an hour in. You wouldn’t call yourself a huge Queen fan, but you liked their hits. You admired the movie’s aesthetic, but you especially admired Gwilym’s performance. He looked so cool with the curly hair and the seventies clothes. It was rather unlike the man you’d met earlier that day. Not that Gwilym didn’t look cool, he just wasn’t as glam. At least, not on that level.

When the movie finished after the Live Aid scene, you had gotten a little emotional. You wiped your burning eyes and sniffled.

“So, what’d you think?” Sloan asked, switching the television off.

“It was good,” you choked out.

“Oh my God, Y/N, you’re such a sap,” Andrew joked.

“Shut up!” you returned. “I just have feelings. There’s nothing wrong with that!”

He laughed. “Nah, I guess you’re right.”

You stretched out on the couch, nudging his thigh playfully with your toe as you giggled and yawned. He smiled back at you.

“I’m beat,” you sighed. “I think I’ll head back to my dorm.”

“You know you’re always welcome to stay here,” Andrew said.

“I know,” you replied. “But I don’t like to intrude. Plus, your couch is lumpy.”

“You could take my bed,” he offered.

Something about the way he didn’t look at you when he said it rubbed you the wrong way. If Andrew had feelings for you, you wished he would either say it or get over it, but not say things like that to leave you wondering. You knew it could never be that way between you, so you hoped for the latter.

“I’d rather be in my own bed,” you said, keeping your tone light.

You got off the couch and stretched again. As you put your backpack on, you thanked them for the pizza and then bid them goodnight. 

Sloan closed the door behind you and looked at her roommate.

“Could you be any more obvious?” she said. She continued by doing her best Andrew impression. “Stay here, sleep in my bed, suck my dick.”

“Oh, fuck off,” he returned, disappearing in to his room. 

You headed back to campus, which was only a few blocks away, your mind racing. Everything from your chance library meeting with Gwilym to whatever the hell had gotten into Andrew was swirling around in your mind.

As you passed the coffee shop closest to campus - frequented by mostly students and faculty, you spotted Gwilym though the window. You watched him as he pored over the book you had recommended, sipping his drink with something of a refined air about him. The temptation to go in and say hello was overwhelming. You were just so drawn to him for some reason. But you decided against it, remembering the way Sloan had compared you both to the cringiest couple perhaps ever written. Showing up suddenly at the coffee shop after one earlier chance meeting seemed very stalker or Edward Cullen-ish. Even if it was genuinely a coincidence. With a sigh, you moved along.

Gwilym lifted his eyes from the page he was reading and looked around. He felt as if there was someone he knew nearby, but as his eyes scanned the room, he saw only strangers. Movement by the window made him look out, but he missed who or whatever it was that created the motion. He blinked in that direction, his mind drawing up - for some reason - an image of you standing there. 

Something resembling disappointment crossed over his heart, but he pushed it down. He didn’t need to be wishing to see you anywhere outside of class. His phone ringing brought a welcome distraction.

“Hello?” he said, picking it up.

“Gwilym, hi!” chirped the voice of Dr. Bennett. “I just wanted to check on you and see how the first day went.”

“You’ve just given birth, and you’re worried about me?” he returned. “Emily, that’s ridiculous.”

“Don’t scold me, Gwil,” she answered lightly. “How’d the class go?”

“If you must know, it went just fine,” he told her. “I’ve been introduced to everyone. You have a very talented class there.”

“Excited as I am to have my son, I am a bit bummed I won’t get to teach them,” she agreed. “But, I’ve left them in very capable hands. I’m glad it’s going smoothly.”

“It really is,” he said.

“What do you think of Y/N?” she asked.

His chest tightened.

“She seems like a lovely girl,” he said stiffly.

“She’s a real star,” she went on. 

“I haven’t heard her sing yet, but from the way you and Dr. Curtis talk, I feel I should have a handkerchief on me or something.”

She laughed. “She’ll impress you I’m sure. Be careful there.”

He paused, wanting to know more about what she meant. It was an odd thing to say about a student. Was she joking? Was she giving him some warning about who you were? Were you not what you seemed? He wanted answers, but decided to ignore it entirely. That was the best way to deal with something like this, in his opinion.

“How are you and the baby?” Gwilym asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Perfect, so far,” she said. “Just ready to get home.”

“I’m sure.”

“Hey, Gwil,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Please keep me updated on everything,” she requested. “I’ll come and see the show at the end of the semester, but I want to know how everything comes together.”

“Will do,” he promised.

“Thanks,” she said warmly.

“You get some rest now,” he said.

“Will do,” she replied, and he heard the smile in her voice.

They said goodbye and hung up. Gwilym’s mind still reeled with her warning. Be careful there. Be careful of what, exactly? Perhaps it was better if he never knew.

On Thursday, you showed up to class early, as usual. The auditorium was empty except for Gwilym. Your heart rate quickened as you approached him. 

“Morning,” you said brightly.

He turned his head and smiled at you. “Hello, Y/N. You’re early.”

“I’m always early,” you said with a shrug. “How’s the book?”

“I’m only three chapters in, but it is interesting,” he replied. “Fond as I am of Shakespeare’s plays, it’s his poetry that really gets me.”

“Oh, really?” you wondered.

He nodded. “Yes. Poetry and songs I think are the most intimate forms of writing. The authors put their feelings out and wrap them up in beautiful language. And somehow, that makes others feel it. As if it were their own. If that makes any sense.”

You pondered his words a moment. You thought of every time you’d sung in your car at the top of your lungs, the words of a song just punching you right in the heart. 

“It makes sense,” you said. “I didn’t realize you were so into that stuff.”

“There’s a lot about me that may surprise you, Y/N,” he said.

You met his gaze, searching for the meaning behind that. He cut his eyes away before you did, clearing his throat.

“Would you like to get started?” he asked. “We can begin with your solo, ‘The Boy Next Door’.”

“Sounds good,” you agreed. “Want me to sing acapella or play piano?”

“You sing, I’ll accompany you,” he returned.

“You play piano?” you questioned. “You certainly are full of surprises.”

The teasing tone felt a bit unfamiliar to you. Were you flirting with him? If you were, was it wrong?

“I play piano, but not very well,” he replied humbly. “I can play a simple tune like this.”

You smiled as you both took the stage, you stopping in the center and he taking a seat on the piano bench. You waited for his cue, and then when he began, you opened your mouth and began to sing.

“The moment I saw him smile

I knew he was just my style

My only regret is we’ve never met

Though I dream of him all the while

But he doesn’t know I exist

No matter how I may persist

So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me

Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-”

Gwilym missed a note on the piano and stopped, bringing you to a halt as well. You shot him a questioning look.

“Sorry,” he said. “I’m not good enough to turn the pages on time.”

“Oh, is that all?” you teased. “Here, I’ll stand next to the piano and turn the pages for you.”

“I’m very much obliged,” he returned.

You walked over and stood to the side, looking expectantly at him.

“From ‘so it’s clear,’” he told you.

“So it’s clear to see, there’s no hope for me

Though I live at fifty-one-thirty-five Kensington Avenue-”

You turned the page.

“And he lives at fifty-one-thirty three.

How can I ignore the boy next door

I love him more than I can say

Doesn’t try to please me

Doesn’t even tease me

And he never sees me glance his way…”

You stole a glance at Gwilym as you held  this note. His face was screwed up in concentration as his eyes followed the music. His hands, which were large and smooth, moved gracefully. His long fingers pressed the keys with ease. He looked very handsome.

“And though I’m heart sore, the boy next door

Affection for me won’t display

I just adore him

So I can’t ignore him

The boy next door…”

You held the note and came off of it slowly and softly. Gwilym did the same with his final note. As the song closed, you looked at each other. A moment of softness passed between your gazes. Gwilym was beginning to understand his friend’s warning. You were so...charming.

“That was very good,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly.

“I’m impressed you knew all the words,” he remarked.

“I’ve been a fan of the movie since I was little,” you told him. “I literally wanted to be Judy Garland.”

“Well, you don’t have very far to go,” he said. “Although, I believe Y/N Y/L/N is perfect just as she is. You don’t have to be Judy Garland.”

Heat came to your cheeks.

“Thank you,” you said again, looking at the floor.

You paused, searching for something to say in return, some compliment to pay him.

“The piano playing was -”

“Please, Y/N, let’s not go there,” he said, a smile pulling at his lips. “My piano playing is absolute shit.”

He held his breath as the words left his mouth, fearful you might take offense to the language or feel he was getting too comfortable. When you clapped your hand over your mouth to stifle the most adorable giggle he’d ever heard, he was relieved.

“It wasn’t shit!” you protested. “Really, it wasn’t!”

“I appreciate you trying to bolster me, but the most redeeming part was playing through your page turn, which was executed flawlessly.”

You laughed some more.

“Well, I am known around here for my page turning skills,” you joked.

“I have a feeling you’ll be known for many things, Y/N,” he said. “Including turning pages for barely capable pianists.” 

Your smile lingered on your lips as your classmates began entering the theater. Sloan eyed you questioningly as he saw how close you were standing to Gwilym. When had you drifted that way? You hadn’t felt yourself move.

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you stepped away, back toward center stage. Gwilym got to his feet and followed you, turning to address the other students.

“Welcome back, everyone,” he said.

He took roll quickly before getting into rehearsal. He and Lily were working on their early scene in the wagon. You watched him ease her into comfort with him. She was six, just like her character, Tootie, and though not shy, did need to warm up to people. Sloan’s sister took a seat in the audience, and you saw her soften as she looked on as well.

“Isn’t that sweet?” you said to Sloan as she approached you.

She looked over at Gwilym going back and forth with her niece.

“Precious,” she said flatly. “You and Gwilym seemed pretty cozy.”

You rolled your eyes, but knew you still looked flushed. 

“Oh, please,” you said. “We were just practicing.”

“Y/N, look at me,” she said with uncharacteristic seriousness.

You did.

“I know we’re joking about how hot he is and all that, but it’s not smart to think any further than that,” she said. “He’s a professor - at least right now - and both of you could get into trouble.”

Defensiveness surged through you.

“You’re talking about it like we’ve been sleeping together or something,” you said, harsher than you meant to. “You’re the one who’s been making the jokes. Nothing’s happened, so spare me the lecture.”

“Y/N, I’m just trying to be a friend,” she said.

“Look, it’s perfectly normal to connect with a teacher,” you returned. “It’s nothing more than that.”

She looked you over, skepticism coming over her sharp features.

“If you say so, Y/N,” she said with a sigh. “But, for the record, I’ve never seen you look at anyone the way you were looking at him when we walked in. Ever.”

She walked away, leaving you stricken where you stood.

[starrybethany]

William Nylander: Part 1

Word count: 2082

Just a quick warning- this story does involve an abusive relationship so if you think that might effect you in some way you might not want to read this story.

I approach the reception desk confidently, my heels clicking on the marble floor. The receptionist looks up as I stop in front of her desk, calmly pushing my sunglasses on top of my head and resting my hand on the wooden countertop.

“Cute watch!” I exclaim, pointing to the silver decorating her wrist. “Is that Cartier?”

“No, it’s Gucci,” she corrects shyly, twisting the jewelry nervously.

“Ugh, I used to have a Gucci watch,” I exclaim, slapping onto the countertop in exasperation. “Unfortunately I lost it while moving. That’s actually why I’m here, I wanted to check my apartment and see if I left it here by accident- oh my gosh!”

I fake gasp, slapping a manicured hand over my mouth. The girl gives me a shocked look.

“I forgot my key,” I wail. “I can’t believe I forgot the one thing I need to get into my apartment, ugh, silly me. Hey, is there any way you can give me the apartment building’s copy? Pretty please, just for fifteen minutes, it won’t take long I swear.”

“Um, sure, but I’d need to check your ID and match it with the resident’s identity,” the receptionist agrees.

I rest my elbows on the counter, laying my head in my hands with a painful groan. “And I forgot my ID too, what is with me? It’s just so hard remembering everything with jetting between Toronto and Dubai and LA-””You know what, ma’am, I’m sure it’s fine,” the girl interrupts, opening the cabinet with the keys. “What unit?”

“Unit 406.”

She pulls out the key with a shaky hand and passes it to me.

“Thank you, sweetie,” I give her a red-lipped smile. “I’ll be sure to give a good word to your boss.”

I roll my eyes as the elevator lifts me up to the fourth floor. Young receptionists fall for it everytime, but I have no problem with that. The easier they make it for me, the better. As long as I’m able to break into a luxury apartment and steal some valuables, I’ve done my job, as bad as my job may be.

I bite my lip in anxiety at the thought of what would happen if I got caught or if the person spent all of their money on the apartment and not their objects. I shouldn’t get caught, since it’s noon and most of the people living in this building are businessmen, but I am worried about the person not having anything valuable.

I guess I’ll just have to see.

I walk down to unit 406, pulling out the key the receptionist gave me and stick it in the lock. I have it twisted and I’m about to open the door when the elevator dings. I mentally swear to myself but do what I’ve done the last couple of times I’ve been caught in this position, look up at the person and flash them an embarrassed smile.

The blush on my cheeks isn’t only to add to the embarrassed look, it’s because this guy is probably the most attractive guy I’ve ever seen.

His golden locks are long and pushed back, like he runs his hands through it every time he thinks and he thinks often. The scruff on his face is darker than his hair but it suits him well.

I feel like anything would suit him well.

What really catches my interest, though, is the blue eyes. They sparkle and shimmer and I can just tell by staring into them that he has many stories to tell. Those beautiful eyes have seen a lot of things.

He flashes me a quick smile and then it turns into a curious expression as he sees the predicament I’m in.

“The key’s a little sticky,” I answer his unasked question.

“Well I hope so, that’s my apartment,” he jokes.

My face turns pale at the realization that this man literally just caught me trying to break into his apartment. I don’t think he’s figured that part out yet, so I still have time to save myself.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry,” I exclaim, subtly turning the key back over to lock the door and pull it out of the lock. “I just moved in and I thought this was my apartment! Can you believe that?”

I let out a sweet giggle and he joins in the laughter, flashing me a smile. There’s nothing a little flirting can’t get you out of.

“Well, this building is hard to navigate,” he admits, grinning at me.

He’s lying, he’s just trying to make me feel better. This is one of the easiest buildings to navigate- the floors go in order of one to eight, the amount of floors there are, and the even numbered units are on the left side while the odd numbered units are on the right.

It’s a typical building.

“That is true,” I agree, shyly smiling back.

“Do you need help finding your apartment?” He offers. “I probably won’t be much help but I can try.”

“Oh no, I don’t want to burden you like that,” I deny, reaching out and gently touching his shoulder. “Thank you for the offer, though.”

He blushes at the physical contact, simply nodding while clearing his throat.

“It was nice to meet you,” I wait for his name while I press the button for the elevator.

“William Nylander,” he answers as I step into the elevator. “And you are?”

“Bye William,” I act like I didn’t hear his question as the doors close behind me.

“It wasn’t there,” I let out a fake huff as I set the key back on the counter. “It’s probably at my LA apartment, now that I think about it. Thank you for your help, Ramona!”

~

I open the door and the smell of weed hits me in the face like a brick wall. I hold back a cough, knowing Mills and his friends would make fun of me if I were to do so, and close the door behind me.

“Did you get anything good?” Mills asks through a puff from the joint.

“No,” I sigh, “The homeowner caught me before I could even open the door.”

“And you got away?” He raises his eyebrows.

“There’s nothing a little flirting can’t solve,” I smirk at him, stepping into the living room just to be overwhelmed by the scent.

“Have sex with him and he’d probably give you a necklace we could pawn off,” Mills suggests.

I ignore him though the suggestion burns. Even though Mills and I aren’t dating, we are involved romantically. We never put any labels on that because that’s not the type of people we are- we don’t like to confine to social standards and put labels on our relationship just because other people want us to.

Though neither of us have titles and ownership that tie us to each other, we do some things like a couple would do, like have sex and once and a while he’ll steal roses from the grocery store for me.

“Maybe,” I sigh, my eyes resting upon Dagger who is usually never seen without his wife, Indigo. “Dagger, is Indigo here?”

“She’s in your room, probably watching some porn,” he answers, taking a swig from the Jack Daniels bottle.

I turn towards the room Mills and I share, rolling my eyes to myself as I approach the door.

“If you guys are having sex just remember to record it!” One of the guys calls after me, causing them all to laugh.

“Dagger told me you were watching porn in here,” I repeat to Indigo, shutting the door behind me and laying down beside her on my bed.

She rolls her eyes, scrolling down the Tumblr tab on her laptop. “Dagger’s a dumbass.”

“Aren’t they all?”

She laughs, reblogging something. “You didn’t feel like getting drunk or high tonight?”

“No,” I shake my head, staring thoughtfully at the ceiling. “You didn’t either?”

She agrees with my conclusion silently.

I lay next to the pink haired beauty in silence, trying my best to stay focused on my next burglary plan but my mind keeps getting drawn back to the man I saw today.

William Nylander. I wonder what nationality that is. It sounds very interesting, but in a good way. And that’s exactly how I feel about the way he looks.

Sure, Mills is attractive and all, but William takes my breath away. William makes me want to smile and go back to college for eight years just to make him proud of me.

How can a guy I’ve had less than a five minute conversation with do that to me?

“What happened on your visit?” Indigo inquires.

“Why do you ask?”

“You have this look on your face,” she snickers, “It’s like the first time you saw Mills.”

“Okay,” I sit up on my elbow, giving her a serious expression. “You cannot tell Mills.”

“Oh shit, it’s that serious,” she gasps.

“Indigo!” I whine.

“Okay, I’ll even pinky promise on it,” she agrees, holding out her pinky.

I shake it with mine, taking a deep breath before I begin this conversation. “I met a boy.”

“Is that it?” She gives me an unimpressed look.

“You don’t understand, Indigo!” I exclaim, laying back down on the bed. “He’s the most beautiful boy I’ve ever seen.”

“Is that proper grammar?” She asks herself.

“He has these gorgeous, long gold locks that I could just imagine pulling during sex or putting up in a manbun while he does his business stuff on the computer. And he has these blue eyes that I could swim in for hours.”

I blush in embarrassment once I realize that I went off on my own little tangent, looking over to see Indigo watching me carefully.

“Sounds nice,” she says simply.

“Is that all you’re going to say? Aren’t you going to scold me for having interest in another man when I’m with Mills?”

“Hey, you’re playing the field, I don’t blame you, girl. I wish I could be doing that too but I signed a legally binding contract.” She makes a face, sitting up and pulling her laptop over her crossed legs.

“I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“What’s his name?” She asks.

“William Nylander. Isn’t it perfect?” I question dreamily.

“Hey, don’t go all soft on me. Your job is to steal shit,” she warns, typing on her computer.

“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting up and watching over her shoulder.

All of the news relating to him shows up on her Google screen and we gasp at the sight of his biography.

“Bro he’s famous,” I state quietly.

“And rich. Oh shit, he has six names, that’s how you know he’s rich.”

I nod in agreement, skimming over the rest of his information. “Damn, besides the six names look at that contract. He’s fucking rich rich, Indigo.”

“I got it,” she declares, shutting the laptop and turning her full attention to me. “You go back to whatever apartment he lives in, convince him to sleep with you, become pregnant, and sue him for child support.”

“I don’t want to have kids,” I complain.

Indigo scrunches her face up in agony. “But the money, Y/N!”

“But the crying and the feeding and, ugh, I can feel the exhaustion already,” I cry out, throwing myself back on the bed.

She opens her laptop back up, peering at me curiously. “He’s Swedish.”

“I love the Swedes.” I’m back over her shoulder looking at the screen.

We go through his information for about ten more minutes before we end up just staring at a picture of him. He is attractive, no one can deny that.

“I bet he lays it down thick,” Indigo states seriously.

“Hell yeah he does,” I agree, tilting my head while looking at the picture. “Sex on the first date kinda guy?”

“Sex before the first date kinda guy, then cancels the dinner at the fancy restaurant to order Chinese food and go for another round,” she corrects me.

“That sounds nice.” I close my eyes, suddenly feeling really sleepy. “Too bad it would never happen.”

“What do you mean it would never happen?”

“Indigo, when would I see him again? I can’t go back to the apartment building I tried to rob,” I emphasis.

“I guess you’re right. That sucks, you could’ve had a sugar daddy,” she pouts.

“I’m going to sleep. Goodnight, Indigo.”

“Night, Y/N.”

[bananaofswifts]

Around this time of year, the Taylor Swift anniversaries come at you thick and fast.

Nine years since her third album, Speak Now, every note of which was written entirely by Swift, hit the shelves. Five years since she released her mould-breaking pop album, 1989, and went from the world’s biggest country star to the world’s biggest pop star overnight. Two years since her Reputation record saw her become the only musician to post four successive million-plus debut sales weeks in the United States. And so on.

But today, Swift’s mind is drawn further back, to the 13th anniversary of her debut, self-titled record, and the days when her album releases weren’t automatically accompanied by mountains of hype and enough think-pieces to sink a battleship. Her journal entries from the time – helpfully reprinted as part of the deluxe editions of her new album, Lover – reveal her as an excited, optimistic teenager, but also one with a grasp of marketing strategies and label politics way beyond her years, even if she was reluctant to actually take credit for her ideas.

“It always was and it always will be an interesting dance being a young woman in the music industry,” she smiles ruefully. “We don’t have a lot of female executives, we’re working on getting more female engineers and producers but, while we are such a drastic gender minority, it’s interesting to try and figure out how to be.”

And, of course, when Swift started out she was, as she points out, “an actual kid”.

“I was planning the release of my first album when I was 15 years old,” she reminisces. “And I was a fully gangly 15, I reminded everyone of their niece! I was in this industry in Nashville and country music, where I was making album marketing calls, but I never wanted to stand up and say, ‘Yeah, that promotions plan you just complimented my label on, I thought of that! Me and my Mom thought of that!’

“When you’re a new artist you wonder how much space you can take up and, as a woman, you wonder how much space you can take up pretty much your whole period of growing up,” she continues. “For me, growing up and knowing that I was an adult was realising that I was allowed to take up space from a marketing perspective, from a business perspective, from an opinionated perspective. And that feels a lot better than constantly trying to wonder if I’m allowed to be here.”

In the intervening years, Taylor Swift has released six further, brilliant albums, growing from country starlet to all-conquering pop behemoth along the way. She takes up “more space”, as she would put it, than any other musician on the planet: a sales and now – having belatedly embraced the format with Lover – streaming phenomenon; a powerhouse stadium performer; an award-garlanded songwriter for herself and others; and a social media giant with a combined 278 million followers across Instagram, Twitter and Facebook (which would make the Taylor Nation the fourth most populous one on earth, after China, India and the US).

But her influence on music and the music industry doesn’t end there. Because, over the years, Swift has also become a leading advocate for artists’ and songwriters’ rights, in a digital landscape that doesn’t always have such matters as a priority.

In 2015, she stood up to Apple Music over its plans to not pay artist royalties during subscribers’ three-month free trials (Apple backed down immediately). She pulled her entire catalogue from Spotify in 2014 in protest that its free tier was devaluing music, sending Daniel Ek scrambling to justify his business model. When she returned in 2017, it was a crucial fillip for the streaming service’s IPO plans.

More recently, her ground-breaking new record deal with Republic Records contained clauses not only guaranteeing her ownership of her future masters, but also ensuring Universal Music will share the spoils of its Spotify shares with its artists, without any payments counting against unrecouped balances. And when her long-time former label boss Scott Borchetta sold Big Machine to Scooter Braun’s Ithaca Holdings, taking Swift’s first six albums with him, the star publicly called out what she saw as her “worst-case scenario” and stressed: “You deserve to own the art you make”. She may yet re-record her old songs in protest.

In short, Swift has, for a long time now, been unafraid to use her voice on industry matters, whether they pertain to her own stellar career or the thousands of other artists out there struggling to make a living.

All of which makes Swift not just the greatest star of our age, but perhaps the most important to the future development of the industry as a more artist-centric, songwriter-friendly business. Hers is still the life of the pop phenomenon – she spent today in Los Angeles doing promotion and photoshoots (or, in her words, “having people put make-up on me”) as Lover continues to build on huge critical acclaim and even huger initial sales. But now, she’s kicking back with her cats – one of whom seems determined to disrupt Music Week’s interview by “stampeding” through at every opportunity – and ready to talk business.

And for Swift, business is good. The impact of her joining streaming, and the decline of traditional album sales, may have prevented her from posting a fifth successive one million-plus sales debut, but Lover still sold more US copies (867,000) in its first week than any record since her own Reputation. It’s sold 117,513 copies to date in the UK, according to the Official Charts Company.

Even better, while Reputation – a record forged in the white heat of a social media snakestorm over her on-going feud with Kanye West – was plenty of show and rather less grow, Lover continues to reveal hidden depths. Reputation struck a sometimes curious contrast between the unrepentant warrior Swift she was showing to the outside world and the love story with British actor Joe Alwyn that was quietly developing behind closed doors, but Lover is the sort of versatile, cohesive album that the streaming age was supposed to kill off.

It contains more than its fair share of pop bangers (You Need To Calm Down, Me!), but also some gorgeously-crafted acoustic tracks (Lover, Cornelia Street), some pithy political commentary (The Man, Miss America & The Heartbreak Prince) and the sort of musical diversions (Paper Rings’ irresistible rockabilly stomp, the childlike oddity of It’s Nice To Have A Friend) that no other pop superstar would have the sheer musical chops to attempt, let alone pull off.

“Taylor’s creative instincts as an artist and songwriter are brilliant,” says Monte Lipman, founder and CEO of Swift’s US label, Republic. “Our partnership represents a strategic alliance built on mutual respect, trust, and complete transparency. Her vision is extraordinary as she sets the tone for every campaign and initiative.”

No wonder David Joseph, chairman/CEO of her long-time UK label Virgin EMI’s parent company Universal Music UK, is thrilled with how things are going.

“Love Story was a fitting first single release for Taylor here – she’s loved the UK from day one and has engaged so much with her fans and teams,” says Joseph. “She really respects and values what’s going on here creatively. To see her go from playing the Students’ Union at King’s College to Wembley Stadium has been extraordinary. Taylor is an artist constantly striving for perfection, and with Lover – from my personal point of view, her most accomplished work to date – her songwriting has gone to a new level. I adore working with her and whilst it’s been more than 10 years this still feels like the start.”

And today, Swift is keen to concentrate on the present and future. She has a starring role in Cats coming up (and a new song on the soundtrack, Beautiful Ghosts, co-written with Andrew Lloyd Webber) and, after a spectacularly intimate Paris launch show in September, festival dates and her own LoverFest to plan (UK shows will be revealed soon). Time, then, to tell the cats to calm down and sit down with Music Week to talk streaming, contracts and why she’s “obsessed” with the music industry…

Unlike with Reputation, most of the discussion around Lover seems to have been focused on the music…

“Absolutely! One of the ideas I had about this record, and something I’ve implemented into my life in the last couple of years is that I don’t like distractions. And, for a while, it felt like my life had to come with distractions from the music, whether it was tabloid fascination with my personal life or my friendships or what I was wearing. I realised in the last couple of years that, if I don’t give a window into distraction, people can’t try to look in and see something other than the music. I love that, if you really pour yourself into the idea that an album is still important and try really hard to make something that is worth people’s attention span, time and energy, that can still come across. Because we are living in an industry right now where everyone’s rushing towards taking us into a singles industry and, in some cases, it has become that. But there are still some cases where clearly the album is important to people.”

Does it matter that some new artists won’t get to make albums the way you always have?

“It’s interesting. Five years ago I wrote an op-ed in the Wall Street Journal and said, maybe in the next five years, we would see artists releasing music the way that they want to. I thought that each artist would start to curate what is important to them, not just from an artistic standpoint but from a marketing standpoint. It’s really interesting to see different release plans, if you look at what Drake did and then what Beyoncé does, incredible artists who have really curated what it is to drop music in their own way. We all do it differently, which is cool. As long as people dropping just singles want to be doing that, then I’m fine with it, but if it feels like a big general wave that’s being pressured by people in power, their teams or their labels, that’s not cool. But I do really hope that in the future artists have more of a say over strategy. We’re not just supposed to make art and then hand it to a team that masterminds it.”

Were you worried about putting an album on streaming on release day for the first time?

“Well, there are ways that streaming services could really promote the [whole] album in a more incentivised way. We could have album charts on streaming. The industry follows where they can get prizes. So you have a singles chart on streaming services which is great but, if you split things up into genre charts for example, that would really incentivise people. It’s important that we keep trying to strive to make the experience better for users but also make it more interesting for artists to keep wanting to achieve. But I really did love the experience of putting the album on streaming. I loved the immediacy, I loved that people who maybe weren’t a huge diehard fan were curious and saying, ‘I wonder what this is like’ and listening to it and deciding that they liked it.”

You’d resisted streaming for a long time. Have you changed your mind about the format now?

“I always knew that I would enjoy the aspects of streaming that make [your music] so immediately available to so many people. That’s the part of it that I unequivocally always felt really sad I was missing out on. There wasn’t ever a day when I woke up and I was like, ‘Oh, I’m really glad that multitudes of people don’t have access to my music!’ So I always knew that streaming was an incredible mechanism and model for the future but I still don’t think we have the royalties and compensation system worked out. That’s between the labels and their artists and I realised that me, to use a gross word, ‘leveraging’ what I can bring to cut a better deal for the artists at my record label was really important for me.”

How big a factor were things like that in you signing to Republic/Universal?

“That’s important to me because that means they’re adopting some of my ideas. If they take me on as an artist that means they really thought it through. Because with me, come opinions about how we can better our industry. I’m one of the only people in the artist realm who can be loud about it. People who are on their fifth, sixth or seventh album, we’re the only ones who can speak out, because new artists and producers and writers need to work. They need to be endearing and likeable and available to their labels and streaming services at all times. It’s up to the artists who have been around for a second to say, ‘Hey guys, the producers and the writers and the artists are the ones who are making music what it is’. And we’re in a great place in music right now thanks to them. They should be going to their mailbox and feeling like they’ve got a pension plan, rather than feeling like, ‘Oh yay, I can pay half my rent this month after this No.1 song’.”

Did you have more creative freedom making Lover than on your previous albums?

“In my previous situation, there were creative constraints, issues that we had over the years. I’ve always given 100% to projects, I always over-delivered, thinking that that generosity would be returned to me. But I ended up finding that generosity in a new situation with a new label that understands that I deserve to own what I make. That meant so much to me because it was given over to me so freely. When someone just looks at you and says ‘Yes, you deserve what you want’, after a decade or more of being told, ‘I’m not sure you deserve what you want’ – there’s a freedom that comes with that. It’s like when people find ‘the one’ they’re like, ‘It was easy, I just knew and I felt free’. All of a sudden you’re being told you’re worth exactly, no, more than what you thought you were worth. And that made me feel I could make an album that was exactly what I wanted to make. There’s an eclectic side to Lover, a confessional side, it varies from acoustic to really poppy pop, but that’s what I like to do. And, while you would never make something artistic based on something so unromantic as a contract, it was more than that. It was a group of people saying, ‘We believe in what you’re making, go make what you want to make and you deserve to own it too’.”

You’re obviously not happy about what’s happened at Big Machine since you left. But will the attention mean artists don’t find themselves in this situation in the future?

“I hope so. That’s the only reason that I speak out about things. The fans don’t understand these things, the public isn’t being made aware. This generation has so much information available to them so I thought it was important that the fans knew what I was going through, because I knew it was going to affect every aspect of my life and I wanted them to be the first to know. And in and amongst that group, I know there are people that want to make music some day. It involves every new artist that is reading that and going, ‘Wait, that’s what I’m signing?’ They don’t have to sign stuff that’s unfair to them. If you don’t ask the right questions and you sit in front of the wrong desk in front of the wrong person, they can take everything from you.”

Songwriters are in dispute with Spotify in the US over its decision to appeal the Copyright Board decision to boost songwriting royalties. Do writers need more respect?

“Absolutely. In terms of the power structure, the songwriters, the producers, the engineers, the people who are breathing magic into our industry, need to be listened to. They’re not being greedy. This is legitimately an industry where people are having trouble paying their bills and they’re the most talented people we have. This isn’t them sitting in their mansions going, ‘I wish this mansion was bigger and I would like a yacht please’. This is actually people who are going to work every single day. I got into writing when I was in Nashville and it was very much like what I read about the Brill Building. You would write every day, whether you were inspired or not, and in the process I met artists and writers. Somebody would walk in and someone would say, ‘Oh, he’s still getting mailbox money from that Faith Hill cut a couple of years ago, he’s set’. That’s not a thing anymore. Mailbox money is a thing of the past and we need to remember that these are the people that create the heartbeat that we’re all dancing to or crying to.”

You were clearly aware of music industry machinations from a young age…

“Reading back on the journal entries, I forgot how obsessed I was with the industry as a teenager. I was so fascinated by how it works and how it was changing. Every part of it was interesting to me. I had drawn the stages for most of my tours a year before I went on them. That really was fun for me as a teenager! A lot of people who start out very young in music, either don’t have a say or don’t have the will to do the business side of it, but weirdly that was so much fun for me to try and learn. I had a lot of energy when I was 16!”

Are you doing similar drawings for next year’s LoverFest?

“Definitely. And that’s why it’s still fun for me to take on a challenge like, ‘Oh, let’s just plan our own festival’. Let’s create a bill of artists and try and make it as fun as possible for the fans. I’m so intrigued by what that’s going to be like.”

Finally, when we last did an interview in 2015, you said in five years’ time you wanted to be “finding complexity in happiness”. How has that worked out?

“That’s exactly what’s happened with this album! I think a lot of writers have the fear of stability, emotional health and happiness. Our whole careers, people make jokes about how, ‘Just wait until you meet someone nice, you’ll run out of stuff to write about’. I was talking to [Cats director] Tom Hooper about this because he said one thing his mother taught him was, ‘Don’t ever let people tell you that you can’t make art if you’re happy’. I thought that was so amazing. He’s a creator in a completely different medium but he has been subjected to that same joke over and over again that we must be miserable to create. Lover is important to me in so many ways, but it’s so imperative for me as a human being that songwriting is not tied to my own personal misery. It’s good to know that, it really is!”

[chilling-seavey]

Anything But Mine (d.s.) - Chapter Eleven

A/N my entire dorm room smells like cleaning supplies and fresh spring air as I have been scrubbing all day with the window open in preparation for my two week hibernation. Hope you all are staying healthy and away from triggered stans ;)

Thursday, October 31st, 2019

“Look out! Here comes the fiercest, most ferocious animal in the world!”

Daniel came down the stairs and into the living room, carrying Clementine in his arms. She was dressed in a giraffe costume, little freckles drawn on her chubby cheeks, and a huge smile plastered on her face. Daniel had matching drawn on freckles on his cheeks. The room ‘awe’d out loud.

“Say ‘rawr’.” Daniel whispered to her.

The ten month old let out a tiny ‘rawr’. The room offered her a gasp, making her smile proudly. Daniel set her on the carpet so Florence could take her picture.

“Giraffes don’t say rawr.” Corbyn piped up.

“They don’t say anything, actually.” Daniel rolled his eyes. “What am I supposed to tell the kid? ‘Say nothing’!”

“She’s good at that.” Zach nodded.

“I think this is the cutest giraffe I have ever seen in my entire life.” Corbyn said, “Even surpassing Daniel.”

“Wow.” Daniel pouted.

“I’m very glad I trusted you to pick out her first Halloween costume.” Florence said quietly as she sat back down on the couch, plenty of pictures in her phone to send to Callum.

“I told you I knew what I was doing!” Daniel teased, picking the baby back up.

Florence put on a soft smile, keeping her eyes on her best friend and daughter. Only a few nights before, someone who meant so much to her virtually walked out of her life. She hoped Grayson would come back to her eventually, she felt like a piece of her heart was missing and he had only been gone for three days. Florence spent the day of the 31st at the boys’ house and into the late afternoon when she would take Clementine trick or treating. Aidan, Jonah, Corbyn, and Jack were going to a party that night down the street, leaving Daniel and Zach to entertain their all too familiar guests.

“Finally done.” Aidan said as he and Jonah came downstairs as well. Aidan had dressed up as a zombie, ripped clothes that he had thrifted and green and brown paint smeared over his face. Jonah was a cop, his black button up mostly undone and tucked into his black skinny jeans. The handcuffs that hung off his belt made the room howl and clap.

“Shut up.” Jonah laughed.

“Sexiest cop I’ve seen.” Zach called out.

“Clementine looks so cute!” Jonah beamed, leaning in to gently poke her cheek.

“Get - your - dirty - hands - away from her.” Daniel said quietly, covering the baby’s head with his hand and turning away.

“Dirty hands?!” Jonah frowned.

“You know what I mean.” Daniel eyed the open button up shirt.

“Let’s get a move on.” Corbyn said, jumping up from the couch and grabbed his helmet from the ground.

“Why are you still 7 years old with your damn astronaut costume?” Jack grumbled, giving his friend a shove towards the door.

“At least I actually dressed up.” Corbyn retorted.

“I did too!” Jack protested, gesturing to his ripped jeans, beanie, sunglasses, and skateboard. “I’m a skater boy!”

“You look exactly the same as you always do. Just shirtless.” Corbyn frowned before walking for the door.

“There’s no pleasing anyone.” Jack grumbled, stopping to kiss Clementine’s cheek on the way after his friends. The oldest few left with loud goodbyes.

“I hate being a literal child.” Zach frowned, his voice muffled slightly behind the fake vampire teeth he wore, as he leaned his elbows on his knees and his chin in his hands. “Now I’m stuck with the baby gang all night.”

“You could have gone. No one there is going to ID you.” Daniel said. 

“Yeah until my mother finds out. Then I’ll be dead. I’d rather be sober than dead.” Zach grumbled.

“Suit yourself.” Daniel shrugged.

“You can have Clementine’s candy.” Florence said.

Zach perked up, “Really?!”

“Hey! I was going to have the candy.” Daniel frowned.

“You shush.” Florence directed to her best friend. “Zach’s the other baby here so he gets first dibs.”

“Hey!” Zach frowned. Florence chuckled.

“We should head out!” Daniel said, rocking Clementine dramatically in his arms. “Before the baby falls asleep.”

“Yeah. I don’t want to have to carry him to bed.” Florence nudged Zach before standing up.

“You guys are so mean.” Zach grumbled before following them to the door.

The group walked down the street in the direction away from the frat houses. A few streets down, more young children and their parents were out trick or treating in the setting sun of the Toronto suburbs. Clementine, from her spot in Daniel’s arms, peered around the bustling street with her mouth open wide, one arm draped lazily over his shoulder.

“Where should we start?” Daniel asked, coming to a stop.

“There!” Zach pointed to a house on their left. A bunch of children were at the door and they could see and older lady dropping pieces of candy in their bags. The children rushed back down the steps as Daniel led their tiny group to the door. The old lady smiled at them.

“Say ‘trick or treat’!” Daniel said to the baby. At merely ten months old, Clementine only curled shyly into him.

“Well aren’t you the cutest giraffe in the city?” the lady chuckled. “How old is she?”

“Ten months.” Florence answered proudly from beside them.

“A first Halloween calls for lots of candy.” The old lady said, dropping a few pieces in the bag that Florence held. “Any for the little boy too?” she asked.

It took Zach a second to realize she was talking to him. He stood at only 5’6” next to his friends’ 5’11”. Daniel bit back a smile at Zach’s appalled face.

A nervous “N-No!” was all he got out.

Once they were back on the street, Daniel burst out laughing, Florence smiling next to him.

“All of you, shut up.” Zach grumbled.

They continued down the street, stopping at a few more houses. Florence finally took Clementine for a little while, after convincing Daniel that his arms would give out if he didn’t pass her over. A few adults complimented Daniel on his matching face paint to the baby, making the shy boy blush and thank them.

After thirty minutes, Zach claimed the baby, carrying her up to the next house excitedly.

“He could be her big brother.” Daniel snorted as the two of them waited on the street.

“Yeah, if I gave birth to him at 2 years old.” Florence rolled her eyes.

“I mean...whatever.” Daniel chuckled, sliding his hands in his pockets. Zach cut across the lawn to the next house, Clementine’s little giraffe hood bouncing on her head. Florence linked her arm through Daniel’s as they walked on together.

“When are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?” he questioned.

“What do you mean?” Florence asked.

“Oh, come on.” Daniel laughed. “Any other day you would kill yourself laughing by an old lady calling Zach a little boy. You barely smiled.”

“How are you so good at reading people?” Florence chuckled.

“I just know you well.” Daniel shrugged. “So what’s up?”

Florence looked over at Zach standing at the next house with Clementine in his arms. The gentleman at the door was fawning over the baby.

“I don’t know where to start.” Florence mumbled.

“Try it.” Daniel shrugged.

“I met this guy, Emilio, the other day. He’s Callum’s new boyfriend’s twin brother.”

Daniel repeated the long title to himself and then nodded, encouraging her on, his eyes on the pavement in front of them.

“And we hit it off. I guess, bonding over how much we miss our brothers when they’re in LA.” Florence sighed.

“Ok?” Daniel said slowly.

“And we hit it off. Like, really hit it off.”

“And by that you mean you slept with him.” Daniel stated plainly.

“Fuck, don’t say that.” Florence held her face in her hands. Daniel only frowned at her as they stopped walking. “I mean, yeah, I did, but I don’t...I feel like shit about it now.”

“You regret it?” Daniel asked.

“No.” Florence said. “God, no. He’s fucking amazing.”

Daniel tried to smile but it didn’t show.

“Grayson found out though. Monday night. He thought that we were dating this whole time but I thought we weren’t.”

“I thought you were too.”

“Fuck.” Florence whined, running a hand through her hair. “I don’t know, I just messed everything up. Now Gray isn’t speaking to me.”

“Why didn’t you think you and Grayson were dating?”

“We never talked about it; about titling anything. I’m still getting over Matt and trying to figure out who I am and trying to raise a baby. I didn’t want the ties to a relationship. I don’t know. I wanted experiences. My first and only relationship left me pregnant. I just...fuck, I don’t know. I wish I could just relive so much and change so much.”

Daniel took her in his arms, holding her warmly before saying, “I know it feels like the end of the world but it’s not. Everything happens for a reason. Things will work out. Grayson is just hurt and it was all just some miscommunication. It’ll smooth over.”

“Do you hate me?”

Before anything else could be said, Zach came trudging down the street, Clementine giggling in one arm and the arm holding the bag of candy wrapped around her back.

“This kid is heavy.” Zach wheezed, pushing the baby towards Daniel who scooped her up.

“Surprised you lasted that long with these noodle arms.” Daniel patted his best friend’s bicep, Clementine curled in his other arm.

“Speak for yourself. You’re literally a walking breadstick.” Zach rolled his eyes.

“Do you think we���re done for tonight?” Florence asked. “I’m tired.”

“Tired?! It’s barely 8:30.” Zach gaped.

“Look at her.” Daniel said, gesturing to the baby who was falling asleep on his shoulder.

“I wanted more candy.” Zach frowned pathetically, looking into the open bag in his hands.

“Poor little baby.” Florence draped her arm around his shoulders and they all headed back towards their house. Zach opened a chocolate bar on the way and he and Florence shared it. It wasn’t long before they were back at the house, Daniel flicking the lights on as they entered.

“I will never understand how you don’t like chocolate.” Zach said loudly through a mouthful.

“Can you shut up?” Daniel whispered sharply, gesturing to the sleeping baby.

“Sorry.” Zach sighed. “But honestly, it’s weird.”

“I didn’t ask to be this way.” Daniel grumbled, laying Clementine down gently on the couch. He reached for the diaper bag where her change of pyjamas was.

“I got it, Dani.” Florence whispered. He stood back and let her change the baby into her pyjamas. Zach sat across the room, eating candy, and scrolling through his phone.

“Are you staying over?” Zach asked Florence briefly looking up over the top of his cell phone.

“Uhm-“ Florence looked to Daniel.

“No. I’m driving her home.” Daniel answered for her.

Florence couldn’t help but feel that simple sentence as a stab to her heart. More often than not, Daniel had her stay over; now he seemed to be getting rid of her. She figured it was because of what she told him on their walk. Did he think less of her now?

The ride back to her apartment was filled with awkward silence. Daniel didn’t even turn any music like he normally would. Florence found herself biting her lip nervously until it tingled, staring intently at the passing city lights. Once in the parking garage, the two didn’t move for a moment too long.

“I’ll see you on the weekend?” Florence asked.

“No, I’m at the studio all weekend.” Daniel said.

“Oh. Will I get to hear anything you produced yet?”

“Possibly.” Daniel shrugged, not looking at her. Silence fell over them again.

“Ok. I better go.” Florence sighed, leaning over to hug him awkwardly before getting out of the car. She grabbed sleeping Clementine and her things and waved as Daniel drove off, leaving her, yet again, standing alone in the parking garage.